Moped Romance
by darthvair65
Summary: Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.
1. Track 1: Just Dance

**Title:** Moped Romance [1/12]  
**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora, Zexion/Demyx for kicks  
**Warnings: **Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene.  
**Rating: **R.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels.

Track 1 – Just Dance

_I've had a little bit too much_

_All of the people start to rush, start to rush by_

_How does he twist the dance? Can't find a drink, oh man_

_Where are my keys, I lost my phone_

Axel realized far, _far_ too late that drinking half the bottle of absinthe before heading to the bar was not only completely stupid but also just a really bad thing waiting to happen. The legal drinking age is sixteen, so what idiot needs to pregame when he's already of age in the foreign country he's staying in? Axel chose not to answer his own rhetorical questions, he was in no state to consider such a thing. The bright colors blossoming before his eyes were up for discussion, though.

But really, Axel knew that if he kept going the way he was he'd end up being sick in the bathroom, and that was not considered cool by any stretch. Demyx kept bringing back shots and Axel downed them without question, which was part of the reason why this was just a bad thing waiting to happen. Demyx, despite all thoughts to the contrary, could hold his liquor far better than a sailor, but Axel refused to be out-challenged by a Bio major with a mohawk. Though by now . . . even Demyx had his limits, but as long as his credit card didn't there was no stopping him.

_What's going on on the floor?_

_I love this record baby but I can't see straight anymore_

_Keep it cool, what's the name of this club?_

_I can't remember but it's alright, alright_

Where the hell was he anyway? Huh. Good question. He couldn't remember if this was their first or last bar of the night, or even if they'd ever left, though he didn't remember walking or taking a taxi. Huh.

Another important question: why had he felt the need to test his own ability to hold liquor against the Green Fairy? Of all the drinks, he had to pick the one with the worst reputation. It was like . . . trying to fight Chuck Norris; Chuck Norris could make you think he was dead and then _Wham!_ you'd be on the floor in seconds never knowing what hit you. Maybe the Green Fairy was Chuck Norris. That'd be a twist.

_Just dance, gonna be ok_

_Just dance, spin that record babe_

_Just dance, gonna be ok_

_Dance, dance, just dance_

Why did he have Lady GaGa stuck in his head?

"Dude," a voice bellowed in his ear, offering an explanation. "You're fucked up."

"Oh hey Demyx," Axel said brightly. "I was just going to find you!"

"Really?" Demyx, excitable thing he was, gasped, and Axel decided that yes, he was probably even drunker than Axel. "That's so cool! I found you first, ha ha!"

Zexion would keep Demyx in line, though. Axel was on his own on that front; Zexion and the other guys in the apartment flat-out refused to babysit anyone else in the event of extreme drunkenness. It was custom, even if said custom was only a few weeks old, to take thoroughly embarrassing pictures of a roommate if they got terrifically drunk and passed out in their apartment, usually covered in marker.

"Demyx," Axel said seriously. "Do have any idea where we are?"

"Uhhhhhhh," Demyx blanched. "No."

"You're in a bar," Zexion snorted, coming up next to Demyx. "Or did you forget?"

"Duh we're in a bar," Axel teased. "What bar?"

"Hell if I know."

"Ok. Well, I'm going to head back to the apartment."

"You sure?"

Axel nodded. "I can handle it."

_Wish I could shut my playboy mouth_

_How'd I turn my shirt inside out?_

_Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say_

_And we're all getting' hosed tonight_

Zexion shook his head and shrugged. His hair looked awfully purple in the bar's lighting. "Do what you want."

"Alright, see you tomorrow!" Axel waved and started pushing his way through the crowded bar into the chilly night air.

The winters, Axel had deduced, were considerably milder here than the winters he'd experienced in the states. He'd only been in Rome a few weeks, but had quickly learned to appreciate the Mediterranean weather. The mornings trekking to the bus stop were only slightly intolerable, a distinction made by the fact that Axel's shower-wet hair never really formed icicles as they walked.

Speaking of icicles; Axel shivered. His t-shirt and jeans were not really weather-appropriate for the wee hours of the Roman morning. Axel glanced around, gradually becoming alarmed that he didn't immediately recognize any of his surroundings. Nor did he remember arriving at that bar, or where they had come from. He did manage to find a sign that indicated he was on Corso Vittorio, the main street in Rome, which was a good sign. Thinking of no one else to call in such a situation – and not wanting to go back into the club to wait for Zexion and Demyx – Axel pulled out his new Italian cell phone and dialed, hoping he wouldn't get eviscerated for this.

After a few rings there was a click; a very tired and distinctly grouchy female voice filtered ominously in from the speakers.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Larxene! Baby sweetie lovemuffin –"

"Continue that sentence and I will remove your balls, fry them, and force-feed them to you."

"Larxene," Axel amended, wincing as his hand jerked to his crotch in a defensive maneuver. "I, uh, how do I get home?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I'm going to kill you."

"No no no no, no no, don't kill me, think of my unborn children –"

"You're gay, you're not going to be fathering any children in the near future."

"Please, just . . . hear me out."

"Fine."

"Ok. I'm totally lost. We were at some bar downtown, I mean, I think I'm downtown. But . . . yeah, the buses aren't running, and I want to go home."

Axel heard the facepalm a mile away.

"Oh my fucking _God_ you're a moron."

"Yes. I'm a moron, can you help me get home now?"

"One second," then Axel heard rustling like bed sheets and paper.

"Oh. Were you asleep?"

"Axel," the voice warned. "It's 3:30 in the morning. And no, I was masturbating, so – "

"Anything good?" Axel asked, his curiosity peaked.

"Gay porn."

"Well, obviously."

"Where are you, you Godforsaken moron."

"Oh, uh . . . Corso Vittorio."

"Ok. Start walking and tell me if you see any landmarks."

Axel started walking down the street, ignoring the gypsies who accosted him. After a few minutes he whined, "Larxene, how much farther?"

"Do you have any idea how long that street is, dipshit?"

"Not nearly as long as my dick."

"Leave your cocktana out of this. Where are you?"

"I told you. Corso Vittorio."

Larxene sighed loudly. "Can you see anything?"

Axel turned on the spot, looking for a landmark and stumbling slightly. "Uh. I see the wedding cake thingie."

"The Victor Emmanuel monument? There should be taxis there."

"Nope. All gone."

"Weird. Ok then. Keep going in that direction. When you get to the next big intersection, take a –"

Axel zoned out. Typical of him in a drunken state; alcohol just completely wiped away his entire attention span.

" – And that should get you home," Larxene finished with a sigh. "Got that?"

"Yeah," Axel said nonchalantly. "Got it memorized."

"Good. Don't call me again, or I swear I'll make you my sex slave."

Axel grimaced. "Gotcha."

Larxene hung up without another word, leaving Axel completely and utterly fucked.

"Chill out," Axel muttered to himself. "You got this."

Ten minutes and a few wrong turns later, Axel was well and truly scared. He'd wandered into what he was sure was a sketchy part of downtown; well, it probably wasn't all that sketchy, but his drunken mind made a lot of it unclear and fuzzy, and he was pretty sure he'd stepped on some poor old beggar woman in the darkness. Amid angry mutterings he quickly rounded another corner into another alley, a little better lit this time, and flailed on the spot before dropping to sit, curled up, on the curb.

Even in his drunkenness he knew he was completely fucked. Axel dropped his face into his hands and began to hyperventilate.

"Tutti ok?" The voice broke clearly through Axel's deep, gasping breaths and turbulent mind a few minutes later.

Axel started and opened his eyes. Leather boots, jeans, and the front end of a moped filled his vision.

"Sei perso?"

Axel's eyes followed the legs and body connected with the boots, taking in the old blue jeans, worn leather jacket and fingerless leather gloves, then the headfull of ash-blond hair and a pair of big, deep blue eyes. Axel stared.

"Scusi," the blond said, smiling now. "Sei perso?" _Are you lost?_

"Si," Axel answered gravely, still staring. _Yes._

"Va bene. Vieni," the blond offered him a hand up, which Axel took. Axel wracked his alcohol-saturated brain, searching for the translation. _Alright, come. _Suddenly Axel was jerked up and on his feet. Wow, the kid was short. And very strong for his size. He handed Axel a helmet. "Sei ubriaco," the kid said, chuckling, as Axel took the helmet. _You're drunk._

Axel nodded, not trusting his mouth at the moment.

"Dove abiti?" the blond was asking as he straddled the moped; Axel managed to clip the helmet on and clamber on behind him. Oh – _where do you live?_

Axel told him the address, hoping he didn't slur it at all and confuse him. The blond nodded and kick started the engine on the moped; Axel was suddenly jerked forward with the sudden acceleration. "Oomph." He wrapped his arms around the blonde's waist tightly as they took off, the thin tires bumping over the cobblestones.

Within the next few minutes Axel was starting to feel woozy and ill; the combination of the alcohol in his system and the bumpiness of the roads was not working for him. His head was swimming.

Finally the blond slowed and pulled to a stop, pushing out the kick stand on the moped. Axel glanced around; sure enough it was his own apartment. Axel stumbled off the back of the bike, working the clasp under his chin. His head was still swimming uncomfortably, and he felt unsteady on his feet. He almost stumbled as he pulled the helmet off; suddenly felt strong hands grip both his elbows. Axel's gaze flicked down to see the blond staring up at him, clearly worried. He was talking, but Axel couldn't hear him; he looked away, trying to find his equilibrium again.

Axel suddenly jerked; he looked down and saw that the blond had jerked him by the elbows to get his attention. Axel met the blonde's eyes, and for one shining, glorious second, his head felt clear and he was drawn into the blonde's brilliantly sapphire-blue eyes.

Then the illusion was over; Axel pitched forward and vomited on the blonde's boots. Axel heard an indignant and disgusted shout and felt a fist connect with his cheek before everything went black, the roar of the moped engine echoing in his ears long after he fell.

"Just Dance" belongs to Lady GaGa; this was totally the theme song of our study abroad.


	2. Track 2: Radar

**Title:** Moped Romance [2/12]  
**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

**Warnings: **Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene.  
**Rating: **R.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Britney Spears and the Pussycat Dolls.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** Axel tries to piece together what happened the night he can't remember, and finds the answers are closer than he expects.

**Language notes:**

_Buon giorno_ – good day

_Cappuccino _– espresso with steamed milk and foam

_Caffè corretto _– shot of espresso with liquor, in this case sambuca, a licorice-flavored alcohol

_Cornetti _– sweet croissants, sometimes filled with jelly, cream or nutella

_Via del Corso _– main shopping street in Rome

_Piazza_ – street square

Track 2 – Radar

The black eye Axel sported over the next week was the topic of intense gossip within the group of study abroad students as well as the internationals in their Italian class; half just wanted to know who Axel picked a fight with and lost, while the other half used the opportunity to invent wild stories to fill in the rather large gap. Axel would entertain each of their new theories (sometimes multiple times a day) in hopes that one might spark his memory, since he honestly didn't remember anything after leaving the bar. Sometimes his brain would supply a color – _cerulean_, which was crazy; why that exact shade, why not just blue? And who the fuck remembers the names of specific color shades other than an art major (which he wasn't)? The females on the trip – excluding Larxene, but including Marluxia – were in their element, all telling their own versions of a tryst gone wrong.

Larxene on the other hand arrived at his apartment the morning after while he was still asleep and began banging pots and pans together a few feet over his head. For days she referred to him as 'the imbecile.' Xigbar – Axel had the unfortunate luck of having the bastard for a roommate – was just as bad if not worse; when Axel was first dragged back into the apartment by Demyx and Zexion, Xigbar took it upon himself to personally stuff Axel in the tiny shower – fully clothed – and turn the dial to 'freezing.' Hung over and very, _very_ confused, he had almost shattered the glass pane by flailing. Somehow he'd managed to crawl back into his bed after the incident, but Xigbar still took pleasure in shooting his head with the Nerf gun he'd procured. Lexaeus and the other guys didn't care much, but got a kick out of it just the same.

Axel wasn't really sure why he hung out with the bastards anyway. At least Demyx and Zexion had had the decency to bring him back up rather than leave him in the street.

"I know I would've," Larxene said briskly as they walked towards the espresso bar. "You would have been out there all day with a sign saying 'free to any home.' No way I'd drag your sorry ass up six flights."

Axel rolled his eyes. "Nice to know you'd hang me out to dry."

Larxene snorted. "You called me at three in the morning. I was _occupied_. I gave you directions, you passed out on your front step, and you want me to get you back up to the top floor? I'm sorry hun, but you'd have to pay me for that kind of service."

"And what about this black eye?" Axel gestured to the bruised skin. It had healed since then, there was only a little bit of discoloration now. "I picked a fight with someone. I'm a happy drunk, that doesn't fit."

"And all you've got is that Demyx and Zexion found you on the sidewalk, at five o'clock, drowning in your own vomit, so that doesn't really help."

"Xigbar never fails to remind me, thanks."

"Though I'd have to give you credit, you did actually make it to your door. You have absolutely no sense of direction. And you were smashed."

"Absinthe is the enemy." Axel reminded himself.

"I'm willing to bet someone got you here," she said, matter-of-factly. "Did you ever think of that?"

"Maybe," Axel considered. "But then . . . why didn't I make it in the door?"

"Maybe you threw up on this person and passed out," Larxene suggested, smirking. "I'd punch you in the face and leave your pathetic ass for less."

Axel frowned. "That would suck . . . royally. I wish I could remember."

"Someone in this city hates your living guts," Larxene chuckled. "That's new."

"Oh come on," Axel snorted. "You're just mad I interrupted your 'me time.'"

"That does contribute to it," Larxene admitted smugly. "But please, you know me better than that."

"Unfortunately, I know I do," Axel muttered. "Look, let's just get our coffees and head to class."

"Yeah, yeah." Larxene ducked into one of the bars on the street.

The bartender looked up expectantly. "Buon giorno."

Larxene nodded to him. "Buon giorno. Un cappuccino e," she glanced over at Axel, who was still shivering. "E un caffè corretto. Sambuca."

The bartender nodded and began preparing their drinks. Larxene dodged chairs and tables on her way to the counter, where she pulled a few Euros from her pockets. Noticing Axel wasn't sidling up beside her, she turned to find him still in the doorway, with a confused look on his face. "What's up with you?"

For his own part Axel was on a completely different planet. When he walked in and saw the bartender, something about him . . . was oddly familiar. He was tall and muscular, with straw-colored hair that stuck out every which way and yet, still managed to frame his long face. He had a couple earrings and a tribal tattoo of a wolf's head on his upper arm, all of which made him look completely out of place in his sleeveless ribbed sweater and bright red apron. It was his eyes that completely knocked Axel off-center; they were the same bright, cerulean blue he'd been trying to place for the last few days.

What the fuck.

"Axel," Larxene prompted, jarring him out of his own mind. "Get your ass over here, I'm not paying for your addiction."

Axel steeled himself as he approached the counter, mentally preparing himself. This was serious business; he had a feeling he might have met him before, but couldn't quite place him. Axel-logic dictated that therefore this guy might know what happened to him that night, though he hoped he wouldn't get another black eye out of it.

The bartender put his caffè corretto in front of him, but Axel just stared at him, boring holes into his face until he looked up and caught Axel's gaze.

"Ti conosco?" _Do I know you?_

The bartender just stared right back, one pale eyebrow perfectly arched. "No," he grunted.

Axel deflated. "Oh."

Larxene snorted derisively somewhere to his left. "Pay the man and drink."

Axel forked over the Euro and change, then picked up the tiny espresso cup containing his personal crack and drank the entire thing in one fell swoop. The effect was instantaneous: Chuck Norris landed a side kick right to his breastbone and the warmth spread out from there all the way to his toes in a full-body shudder. Axel shook his head quickly; all evidence of his previous shivering was gone, he even felt . . . perky.

"_Ugh_," Larxene commented, helpful as always.

"What?"

"You look like you just jizzed in your pants," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Keep that to yourself, thanks."

Axel was about to retort when the door opened again and a teenager walked in, headphones blaring.

_Confidence is a must_

_Cockiness is a plus_

_Edginess is a rush_

_Edges I like 'em rough_

He was wearing a black knitted hat, enormous dark sunglasses and a leather jacket with a scarf, and smelled vaguely of petrol. The teenager went straight for the bartender, not even acknowledging Axel or Larxene's presence. And fuck, who wanted Britney Spears screaming in your ear like that?

_A man with a Midas tough_

_Intoxicate me, I'm a lush_

_Stop, you're making me blush_

_People are looking at us_

"Dové Tifa?" the newcomer asked, turning down the headphones slightly.

The bartender jerked his head towards a door near the back of the café and started making what Axel assumed to be the kid's usual order, since he didn't say anything else. The kid suddenly hopped up until he was leaning over the clear counter where a pile of cornetti and other delicious-looking things were piled. He was reaching for one of them when a spoon flew from the direction of the bartender and whacked the kid on the hand; there was a sharp yelp and a grunt that clearly meant 'Don't even think about it.' The kid cursed viciously, shaking his hand and scowling.

_I don't think you know, know_

_I'm checking it so hot, so hot_

_I wonder if he knows he's on my radar, on my radar_

_And if I notice you I know it's you_

_Choose you don't want to lose you're on my radar, on my radar_

"Axel," Larxene tapped him upside the head, recapturing his attention. "We have to go."

"Yeah," Axel said belatedly.

Axel took one last glance at the kid and the bartender, who were bickering now, and walked out the door onto the cobblestones. His attention was caught by silver Vespa, the rear bumper covered in various stickers. Somehow it felt familiar, as if he knew he'd seen it somewhere before . . .

"I swear, I'll leave you here," Larxene snapped. "Fucked up sense of direction or not."

"Yeah, fine," Axel snorted.

***

The weekend finally arrived several days later, and Axel kidnapped Demyx to go looking for a leather jacket on Via del Corso. Other than Zexion, Demyx was the only guy whose Italian was almost spot-on and was willing to play translator every once in a while. The only condition for this trip was that they find and raid the store with the wall of kick-ass Converse, which Axel was more than happy to oblige.

It was a mildly cold Saturday, and already crowds of people were milling about spending whatever paychecks they'd received. Axel had already been into two stores advertising 'VERA PELLE,' but most of their coats were geared towards women; Axel's torso was too long for one of their regular jackets, and the longer coats just looked damned weird.

"Maybe you should just face facts," Demyx said. "You'd make a much better woman. Girls would kill for those hips."

"How would that solve the problem of not having a leather jacket?"

"Well, you'd have boobs," Demyx said, as though this made perfect sense. "And then you could wear one of those!" he pointed to a cropped leather jacket in a store window. Axel glared at the jacket, then at Demyx.

"That makes no sense whatsoever."

Demyx shrugged. "You never said the solution had to." Then he grinned. "You hear that?"

"Hm?"

"Someone's playing the Pussycat Dolls. Really loudly."

"Huh?" Axel murmured distractedly, but sure enough the music caught his ear. "Oh. I guess so."

"It's coming from up ahead, let's go check it out!" Demyx proceeded to grab Axel's wrist and run until they came up on a small piazza, where a small crowd had gathered. "When I Grow Up" was blasting, though it was occasionally interrupted by fits of clapping from the crowd. Axel craned his neck and stood on his toes to see over everyone else until he found the center; a group of four teenagers, three boys and a girl, were performing a highly choreographed dance to the song on a mat that had been taped down to the cobblestones.

All four were dressed in jeans, flexible enough for them to move freely in as they danced, short-sleeve shirts that would have been suicidal if they weren't moving so fast, and hats. The girl's shirt was tied at the small of her back, and her hair was done up in a short brown braid.

The song moved into a remixed dance sequence, and three of the dancers vacated the square off to the side, leaving one of the boys in the center. He broke into a routine that leaned more towards breakdancing, and one particular move had him upside-down in a kind of posed and unbalanced handstand. As he held the pose his shirt fell up towards his chest revealing a well-toned stomach, and Axel had just enough time to appreciate that view – several females in the crowd were catcalling – before he shook his head ever so slightly. His hat fell off, and he shook his short, ash-blond hair out to get rid of any hat-hair he might've had before he broke the stance to shove the hat off to the side and out of his way. Then he leapt back up and resumed the routine until he was replaced by one of the other boys. The blond snatched up his hat and raised his arms, accepting the catcalls and applause for his performance. Axel watched as his eyes scanned the crowd, then he felt déjà vu alias Chuck Norris delivering a kick to his solar plexus – the kid's eyes were that cerulean blue he knew was haunting him.

Well then. Contestant number two.

The last two dancers performed their solos and finished their combined routine with the song. The audience that had surrounded them started clapping and shouting, and some were already digging into their pockets as the blond made a circuit, holding his hat out to collect money.

Axel pulled out all the change he had and waited until the blond came reached him. He smiled and extended his arm to put the change in his hat when the blond suddenly snatched the money out of his hand, a dark look on his face.

"Per miei stivali," he snarled.

Axel blanched. "Huh?"

The blond looked like he was going to continue, but seemed to think better of it. He threw Axel a nasty look and continued to make his way around the circle.

"What was that about?" Axel asked, still dumbfounded.

"He, uh . . . said something about his boots. He took the money for his boots."

"That kid knew me," Axel said, trying to figure this out. "But I've never met him before . . . or at least I don't think I have. He looked eerily familiar."

Demyx's eyes widened. "What about Larxene's theory? That you threw up on someone after they brought you home and they punched you?"

"Oh God."

Demyx whistled. "If _that_ gave you a ride home and you puked on him . . . _damn_ you suck."

"Thanks, Demyx."

"Anytime."

***

"Fuck," Axel muttered as the tiny alley opened up, not to the main but to an even tinier alley. He stopped and pulled the map out of his back pocket, examining it as closely as he could to see if he could pick out the alley he'd walked down. He was sure he was close to the main road, he could hear the cars and blaring horns. But whenever he followed his ears towards the sound, all it brought him was a tinier alley and a dead end.

Why was he cursed with a horrible sense of direction?

"_Fuck,"_ Axel swore vehemently, cursing the late midday 'naptime' everyone in the program was so excited about, though he couldn't see why having a legit excuse to sleep during the day was so awesome when he couldn't even find his apartment in the first place. He was supposed to find a grocery store to pick up some food for the apartment, but the place was nowhere to be found. The only place he'd found that was open was a little café, where none of the patrons or waiters spoke English or could decipher his Italian. Axel ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly, hissing at the hopelessness of the situation and the overwhelming déjà vu.

"Scusami," a gruff and vaguely annoyed voice came from behind him, accompanied by a hand pushing his shoulder roughly. Axel whirled around and had to look down slightly to meet the other man's crystal clear blue eyes. Wait . . . oh, fuck.

"It's you," Axel breathed.

The blond looked mutinous, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Then he shoved Axel in the shoulder roughly to get past him.

"Hey," Axel started. "A-aspetta, per favore? Uh, fuck, um, puoi mi aiutare?" At least, that's what he thought would translate to 'Please help me find a main road, I have no idea where I am or if I've entered into mafia territory or not,' or in the least _Wait, please, can you help me?_

The blonde stared at him. "Perché?" he asked petulantly.

Axel froze and took the whole picture in, from the guy's leather jacket – complete with checkered detail, scarf, old jeans and boots to the be-stickered silver moped he was guiding. Axel shook himself out of his observation ignored the butterflies in his stomach to put his hands up and say "Sono perso," miserably.

The blond stared. "Che?"

This was what frustrated him more than anything; he hated trying to translate what he wanted to say. "Fuck it. Parli inglese?" _Do you speak English?_

The blond looked dubious. "Some, yes."

"Better than nothing," Axel let out a tense breath. "Look, I know you hate me. I'm sorry I threw up on you, or your shoes, whichever. But I really, really need help."

"So?" The blond pushed the kickstand out on his moped and leaned back against it, pulling out a cigarette. "You threw up on my shoes, I owe you nothing."

"You got to punch me!"

"You deserved it."

"I was drunk," Axel said miserably. "I'm sorry."

The blond was silent for a while, and when Axel looked up he found the kid staring at him contemplatively while taking a drag on the now-lit cigarette.

"You don't remember anything, do you?"

Axel shook his head. "I've been trying to figure out what happened that night. I wasn't sure how I made it to my front step in one piece. And I knew I pissed someone off, I had a nasty black eye for a week."

"I have a good right hook."

Axel smiled wryly. "Every once in a while I'd see someone who, now that I've met you again, looks like you or has similar features I'd get this really annoying déjà vu. But I remembered, actually remembered, the color of your eyes. I remembered how blue they were . . . I just didn't have anything else to connect with that yet."

The blond stared at him like he'd never seen him before, all traces of animosity gone. The cigarette was burning away, forgotten, between his fingers.

Axel was the one who broke the silence again. "I, uh, I know I'm asking a lot, but will you tell me what happened that night?"

The blond hissed and dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his shoe. "You are lucky my English is good." He paused, scratching his ear. "I saw you sitting on the sidewalk. I asked if you were lost. You were also drunk, not a good combination. I gave you a ride to your apartment, then you acted strange. Almost like . . . then you puked."

"Like what? It was probably the absinthe – I could have been seeing things."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "Like you were going to kiss me. Then –" he leaned to the side and mimed puking, complete with retching sounds.

"Oh."

"Si."

"Wow, I really _do _suck."

The blond chuckled and nodded, regarding him curiously. "Com'è ti chiami?" he asked.

"Eh?" Axel started. He was distracted by the thought that yes, Larxene had been right, and yes, he'd really screwed up but the kid was still talking to him with no signs of imminent punching in the air.

"Your name," the blond grinned, his eyes crinkling in a way that Axel found . . . really cute. There was a swooping sensation in his gut that he definitely wasn't used to. So maybe the kid was cute. "What is it?"

"Axel."

The blond nodded. "Roxas. So, sei perso?"

Axel scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Where are you going?" Roxas asked.

"My apartment," Axel explained. "Over by the –"

"I remember," Roxas chuckled. "You are very, very lost."

Axel hung his head sheepishly. "Sempre perso." _I'm always lost._

After a moment of consideration the blond spoke again. "Come with me. I'll take you there." With that he threw a leg over the moped and motioned for Axel to sit behind him. At Axel's hesitation Roxas turned around and gave him a sly grin. "I promise I'm not going to rape you. Andiamo!" _Let's go!_

Axel snorted and got on right behind the blond, putting his feet on the lower ridge. It was a small moped, definitely not built for two people and considering he was probably twice Roxas' size it was a snug fit; Axel had to lean back to keep himself from pressing against the his body at every point.

"Hold on," was the only warning he got before the younger man revved up the engine and the moped took off down the tiny side streets, Axel barely clinging to his waist to keep from falling. Roxas seemed unperturbed by the close proximity of carts and tables he nearly could have run into, and would take the most unexpected hairpin turns down alley after alley.

"Your English is really good," Axel commented over the roar of the motor.

Roxas laughed. "I don't like the grammar. Very confusing."

"Yeah, it's terrible. Even for native speakers. Half the time I don't know if I'm saying the right thing."

"Why would the English make a language so hard even they don't know how to speak it?"

"I have no clue," Axel grinned widely at the back of the boy's helmet.

Roxas took a hard left, swerving into a busy intersection and cutting off a large red tour bus. Axel looked back, alarmed, as the bus driver honked at them; the moped promptly accelerated and Axel had to grab hold of his companion's waist to keep from falling off.

"Never drive here unless you know what you're doing," Roxas called back good-naturedly. "And even then, you'll probably die."

"Do you know what you're doing?" Axel asked nervously.

"Mostly," Roxas answered.

"That's good to know," Axel snorted. "Roman traffic scares the shit out of me."

Axel couldn't see, but he had a pretty good feeling the blond was grinning. A few seconds later, Axel couldn't tell if it was intentional or not, Roxas pulled over into the opposite lane to pass a Smartcar and almost drove headfirst into another car speeding towards them.

"SHI-"

Axel tightened his hold around Roxas' waist in preparation for the impact; he mentally tallied up a list of apologies and shout-outs to people for making his life an awesome twenty years, and briefly considered a will before realizing he didn't have time for one. But instead of the bone-crushing collision he expected, Roxas jerked back into their lane just in time to avoid the car. The redhead blinked. Still alive . . .

"Tutti ok," Roxas chuckled.

"You're nuts!"

Roxas laughed outright.

"Was that necessary?"

Roxas tilted his head down for a second, then up again. "Forse."

Axel gave him a confused look, trying to remember what 'forse' meant. "Oh." _Maybe. _He cleared his throat, realizing his arms were still wrapped tightly around Roxas' waist and loosened them. "Sorry."

Roxas shrugged. Axel took in the sights as they drove; he could see the Vatican's dome about a half a mile ahead when they pulled off the main street and drove into a more residential area with the same winding streets that Axel immediately recognized as his neighborhood.

Roxas slowed in front of his building; somewhat reluctantly he let go of the blonde's waist and dismounted the bike. Roxas put it in idle as Axel got off and tried to shake the nerves from such a harrowing trip . . . and the idea of asking if Roxas wanted to come inside for a drink. He had saved him from wandering the backstreets of Rome twice, after all . . . and last time he'd puked on him. Axel swallowed his nerves; his throat felt surprisingly dry. "Would you . . . uh, like to come inside?"

Roxas stared at him, as if trying to work out the same thing and translate in his head simultaneously. In the end he uttered a vaguely indifferent noise and got off his bike, pushing it closer to the side of the street. He pulled his helmet off and locked it in the back compartment of the moped, glancing over at Axel briefly. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Roxas strolled over to the door, where Axel was fishing his keys out of his jacket. He pushed the door open and let himself and the blond in. Roxas followed him in to the small, enclosed courtyard and through another door where the elevator was. Axel shut the three doors behind them.

Italian elevators, especially the one in Axel's apartment building, were old and slow, and the sixth floor was a long way up. Once the elevator had begun to move Axel bit his lip and took the plunge. "Hey Roxas. Remember what you said back there, about me looking like I was going to kiss you?"

Roxas' brow furrowed; Axel couldn't tell if he was processing the translation for himself or unsure what he was talking about until the blond said vaguely, "Si."

"Did you want me to?"

Another pause. "Forse."

"Posso ti dare un bacio subito?" or what he hoped translated to, _Can I kiss you now?_

Roxas looked at him sharply.

"No puking, I promise."

Roxas made a show of thinking. Then, smiling, said "Vieni qui." _Come here._

Axel took the one step needed to place himself right in front of Roxas, while the blond's impossibly deep blue eyes glittered in anticipation. Axel bent to kiss him, and Roxas met him more than halfway, wrapping his arms around Axel's neck as their mouths crashed together. There were teeth nipping at his lower lip, demanding entrance; Axel could only oblige and deepen the kiss. Roxas tasted faintly like cigarette smoke, something salty-sweet, and espresso; he couldn't get enough of it.

The elevator abruptly came to a shuddering halt, though neither of them paid any attention to it. Only when several shocked gasps and something that sounded like _"Mamma mia,"_ did Axel turn his head just slightly, still engaged in the kiss. The elevator had stalled on one of the middle floors, and an Italian family clearly waiting to use the elevator was staring at them as they made out, jaws dropped and, by the looks of one teenage girl, entranced and a little flushed.

Roxas realized what had happened and pushed Axel away just far enough to jump, jarring the elevator out of its position. It groaned back to life and continued on its course, while they resumed their kiss.

By the time the elevator dinged, Roxas was flattened against the wall with Axel's leg firmly between his legs; Axel couldn't imagine moving from this spot for the rest of the night. Though leaving the elevator would probably be wise, Axel was still trying to reassemble his brain cells to think through the logistics of bringing Roxas into his apartment like this. His roommates were likely gone, at dinner or one of the bars already. Well, that was all he needed.

"Shall we move inside?" Axel asked, breaking the kiss. The blond nodded, and extricated himself from Axel to unlatch the doors.

At the exact moment that Axel's flatmates were opening the door to their apartment and filing out. Demyx yelled "Axel!" at the top of his lungs and lunged forward to attack him with a hug. Axel stared at them over Demyx's shoulder, completely stunned. "We were worried, we were just going to come out an find you!"

"Heh," Axel chuckled. "Thanks. But uh, I'm here, I was rescued."

"So we see," Zexion said, eyeing the blond and their conjoined hands.

"He's pretty cute," Xigbar commented, leering. "You were bringing him back here to fuck."

"That's not really any of your business, is it?"

"It is when I'm your room mate and I'll videotape whatever I see fit. You know, I didn't know they made prostitutes this young."

"He's not a prostitute, jackass," Axel scoffed.

"Lay off him, Xigbar," Demyx pouted.

"Look, I'll go," Roxas spoke up for the first time, withdrawing his hand from Axel's.

"You don't have to, he's just an asshole who can't keep his mouth shut."

"He's very annoying," Zexion agreed, as though that settled the issue.

"How can he bring jailbait back here and not expect me to make fun of him? Jeez."

Roxas was ignoring the whole exchange as he took out a piece of paper from his pocket and a little pencil, and began writing something. After a moment he took Axel's hand again. "I'll see you again," he smiled, pulling Axel down to kiss his cheeks; Axel blinked as he felt a piece of paper being transferred into his hand. Roxas pulled away and waved before getting back into the elevator.

Axel opened up the slip of folded paper as Xigbar grumbled back into the apartment. His face broke out into a smile. "Hey Demyx."

"Hmm," his best friend answered.

Axel held up the piece of paper for him to see; there was the name of a club and a phone number written on it. "Have you ever heard of this place - Qube?"


	3. Track 3: If You Seek Amy

**Title:** Moped Romance [3/12]  
**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

**Warnings: **Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene.  
**Rating: **R.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Britney Spears and Jimmy James ("Fashionista").

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** Qube, and an offer Axel can't refuse.

**Cultural notes:**

_Testaccio_ – area in Southern Rome, home to one of the cat sanctuaries and the Protestant cemetery

_Termini_ – main bus/taxi/train/metro hub in the center of Rome

**Another note:** one can actually procure Cheez-its in Rome if you know where to look. Castroni, a truly multicultural grocery near the Vatican, sells them along with other goodies like peanut butter, Jiffy mix, taco shells, and syrup. Qube is also a real club, and you really don't want to go drunk.

Also: This chapter has been slightly edited, though not that much. As far as the "subtitles" go, as Axel gets better at Italian, they will become significantly less confusing.

Track 3 – If You Seek Amy

_Oh baby baby have you seen Amy tonight?_

_Is she in the bathroom is she smoking up outside, oh_

_Oh baby baby does she take a piece of lime_

_For the drink that I'mma buy her_

_Do you know just what she likes?_

Qube, Axel discovered upon Googling it on the school's lab computers, was a) one of the most infamous gay clubs in the Eternal City, b) located in Testaccio, not far from the Pyramide metro stop, and c) not a club one went to drunk; it clearly had a reputation all its own. Demyx and Zexion agreed to tag along to decrease the chances of Axel getting himself killed, and carefully planned out the route once they had the location. They had to catch the red line into Termini, then switch over to the blue line until Pyramide. From there they'd have to catch a taxi to the club.

Axel had been texting back and forth with Roxas and had confirmed that the blond would be there later on tonight; he'd already spent several hours getting ready for the night. He'd showered, shaved, and after letting his hair dry out had liberally applied the wax that kept his hair looking its usual spiky self, like a fireburst out of the back of his head.

When Xaldin started pounding on the bathroom door Axel skedaddled back to his room and started scavenging for clothes. Xigbar, bastard that he was, was sitting on his bed munching on a box of imported Cheez-its as he watched the scene. Axel ignored him and pulled on black boxer briefs and a pair of dark, slim-fitting jeans; he found his bright green shoes under his bed and went to find a shirt. After going through a few drawers he found what he was looking for: a black short-sleeve v-neck that hugged his torso. Axel pulled it on and examined himself in the mirror. Satisfied, he gave a short nod at his reflection.

Demyx burst around the corner and whistled. "Damn, looking good," he said, grinning and coming up behind Axel to look in the mirror too.

"I think so," Axel grinned crookedly.

Demyx looked at him appraisingly. "I'd fuck you."

"You're looking pretty hot yourself," Axel leered, noticing his very tight jeans, purple shirt and pinstripe vest. "Who are you dressing up for?"

Demyx flushed slightly and shoved him over to get a look at himself in the mirror. Axel chuckled and grabbed everything he'd need for the night: cell phone, ID, metro pass, keys, Euros, condoms, lube; Axel felt a thrill of anticipation go through him as he went through his mental list.

"Ready?" Demyx called.

Axel checked his pockets once again. "Yup."

Xigbar made a cat-like sound as they went towards the door. "Go get 'em, stud," he chuckled.

Axel rolled his eyes and snapped, "Fuck you."

"Be a good boy, now."

Demyx pulled Axel out of the room before anything else happened, and they met Zexion at the door. The metro ride wasn't that bad; they managed to get to Pyramide without a problem. Pyramide itself, however, looked kind of seedy now that it was dark. There were groups of Italian teenagers in small groups all over the place, some yelling or making comments at the passersby.

Zexion pointed out the taxi lot not too far away, and jogged over to knock on the passenger-side window. The driver accepted them and unlocked the doors. "Dov'è?" he grunted once all three of them were settled in the cab.

"Qube," Axel answered.

Zexion turned to give the driver a more detailed address, but the driver put his hand up to silence him. "I have been cab driver for twenty years, I _know_ the disco," he said proudly, his English heavily accented but luckily understandable. The driver pulled out of the taxi lot and started driving; Axel couldn't keep track of the turns they were making or where they were anymore.

"Is a big party tonight, you know, yes?" the cab driver spoke up. "The line will be long."

"Oh," Axel's brow furrowed. "Really?"

"Yes, big party. They will eat you alive," the driver leered into the rearview mirror, and Axel fought down the urge to retch. Demyx looked fearful, but Axel put up his hands innocently. He had no idea what this would bring.

A few minutes later Axel looked ahead and found he could make out the neon lights and bright beams emanating from a large warehouse; large numbers of people had already gathered outside, under a giant neon 3-D cube. Axel swore he could see clumps of glitter forming on the windshield, and could hear the bass pumping from a block away.

"Here it is," the driver announced. "Qube."

Zexion paid the driver and exited promptly, only to be bombarded by shrieks and yells, as well as the music filtering out from the club.

_Love me, hate me, say what you want about me_

_But all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy_

_Love me, hate me, but can't you see what I see_

_All of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy_

_Love me, hate me, la la la_

It should be said that Axel thought Britney Spears was kind of overrated and annoying. Especially that loud . . . it was criminal, really. It was bad enough having Lady GaGa stuck in his head when he was drunk and didn't really care, but this could almost count as torture. Even if the beat was starting to sink into his brain.

Half an hour after Axel, Zexion and Demyx pushed their way into the line leading into the club, they discovered there was not only one but two lines, and the one they'd found themselves in was reserved only for those on The List. One incredibly bitchy bouncer later, they were all the way at the back of the other, less exclusive line. People kept crushing forward to try and maneuver their way closer to the front, and Axel was sure if he leaned back ever so slightly his head would get caught in the bosom of a drag queen directly behind him. The line went horribly slow; it took them almost forty-five minutes to get in from there. Axel was ecstatic when the bouncer finally stamped their wrists and let them in.

Qube, he decided about five minutes later, was definitely not a club one went to drunk. Not because the intense strobe lights would give you a headache, or the cost of drinks would have you forking out more cash than you were comfortable with, but because the men you encountered first in the club were more aggressive and immediately would try to pull you off and up to the upper blacklit floors. Unless that was what you were looking for. Axel himself was felt up by no less than three strangers in that five minutes, and felt vaguely violated.

The air was a heady mix of sweat, sex, and the artificial scent of the fog machine. The stage and screen walls were lined with go-go dancers, some in cages, and behind screens Axel could make out more private rooms where groups where drinking, preparing for the dance floor again. There was a balcony overlooking the crowd; couples up there were more absorbed in making out than dancing. Axel grinned as he saw one man being fucked over the railing by his partner.

"We're going to go get a drink," Demyx yelled over the thumping bass as he and Zexion walked away. "See you around!"

Axel nodded at them and wormed his way into the crowd, looking for Roxas. He found him a few minutes later as he worked his way closer to the stage, where the crowd was denser; Axel caught a flash of his blonde hair in the strobe, and followed it to him. Roxas was dancing away in skintight leather pants that laced up in the front, lace-up boots and a blue tank top . . . with someone else, if the hands on his stomach and the curve of his hip were anything to judge by. Roxas had his head turned towards the other person, and Axel was glad to see a wary look on Roxas' face. And that his hands were firmly grasping the other man's wrists to keep them from moving any farther. The hand on his stomach moved to thread through his hair; in one quick movement the other man tugged Roxas' head to the side to lick his jaw and his other hand cupped his crotch.

Axel felt a surge of rage, and saw the same emotion echoed on Roxas' face. He elbowed the other man in the stomach fiercely, and continued dancing as he skulked away. Axel made his way through the crowd to him.

"Sei qui!" Roxas' face lit up as Axel moved closer to him. _You're here! _The once-over the blonde gave him didn't go unnoticed; Axel nodded, grinning back and returning the look. "Vieni, balla con me!" Roxas grabbed his hand and pulled him in. _Come on, dance with me! _Britney Spears faded into a remix, something Latin with a pulsing beat and Roxas threw his arms over the redhead's shoulders while Axel's hands came to rest on his hips as they moved in time with the song.

Axel tugged playfully on the belt loops on the blonde's leather pants, looking down at how they hugged every curve of Roxas' legs and his groin, leaving very little to the imagination. "Gli piace," he whispered in Roxas' ear, hoping for a suave and sexy _I like these_ without openly saying _but I can't wait to see them come off._

"Hmm," Roxas responded thoughtfully. Giving Axel yet another wicked smirk he captured Axel's wrists and moved his hands down to cup his leather-clad ass. "Lo so." _I know. _Axel squeezed, and Roxas' body jolted under his hands.

Pulling him closer, Axel leaned down and kissed Roxas, slipping his tongue into his mouth. The blonde responded enthusiastically, threading his fingers into the hair at the nape of Axel's neck.

After a few songs Roxas moved to dance back to front with Axel, and set his hands to rest on his hips. Bodies crushed them together, and Axel felt Roxas take advantage of the situation and grind back against him. His cock stirred in interest at their proximity and surroundings, and he nibbled on Roxas' ear while the blonde reached up, sighing, to tangle his fingers in Axel's hair. His hand covered Axel's on his hip, and a contented sound escaped his lips to reach Axel's ear.

As they danced Axel caught glances of people around them staring, some with open lust and lascivious grins, including the man Roxas had knocked out of the way before Axel had arrived. He felt a swell of pride that while others probably wanted him to, Roxas wasn't showing any signs of leaving him to dance with someone else. Axel caught a glance from Demyx too, who was giving him a bright thumbs-up as he danced with Zexion. He chuckled and bent his head to kiss and nip at the expanse of skin where Roxas' neck met his shoulder.

"I know," Roxas whispered hotly in Axel's ear, "so che vuoi." _I know . . . what you want. _He led Axel's hand down to where his leather pants laced up; somehow they were already untied, and Axel's hand met the flesh of the blonde's cock. At the first touch of his fingers Roxas arched in his grasp, and moaned as his fingers wrapped around his burgeoning erection. Axel reached down to cup his balls through the leather with his other hand, silently crowing as Roxas shook with pleasure.

After a quick glance around Axel, still entangled with the blond, pushed his way over to one of the thick pillars on the edge of the dance floor. He turned Roxas around and pressed him back against the pillar hard, his hand down the blonde's pants and Roxas' unadulterated moans in his ear as he ground against him.

"You want to fuck me?" Roxas purred, nipping the lobe of his ear before licking the shell hotly.

"Yes," Axel responded shakily.

All of a sudden Roxas slapped his hands away; as Axel reluctantly removed them from his pants Roxas grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of the stairs. People eyed them appreciatively as they passed, probably because Roxas' pants were still untied and because they knew exactly where they were headed. Roxas led him through a darkened room, picked up a key somewhere, and pulled him into another room before locking it behind him. Axel was on his knees in front of him, jerking the leather pants down before he left the door; Roxas leaned back against it, allowing Axel to continue. The blonde's cock sprang out as it was released; Axel licked his lips and descended, taking him in completely. Roxas moaned brokenly, grasping Axel's hair to hold him there.

The flesh of his cock was burning hot against Axel's tongue, and he pulled back to suck on the head while rolling Roxas' balls in one hand. His hips jerked under the sensations of Axel's mouth, so Axel grabbed hold of his hips to keep him steady. Roxas' moans and curses filled the room, and his grip tightened in Axel's hair. Taking him in to the root, Axel reached around his hips and found Roxas' puckered entrance, pressing just inside to hear him moan again. He couldn't help the way his hips bucked, and to keep from choking on his cock Axel pushed him back against the wall with a firm palm to his solar plexus. Roxas groaned loudly as it held him in place, and Axel looked up to meet burning, over-bright eyes. The hand in his hair pulled his head back, and Axel kept looking up at him.

The look in Roxas' eyes turned predatory, and he dragged Axel back up to his feet to kiss him fiercely. Axel maneuvered them away from the wall and ended up pushing Roxas back onto the bed right behind them. He stared down at the blond, panting and harder than he'd ever been, for about two seconds before he tore off his shirt and pounced.

Roxas' tank top was gone almost instantly, but the boots and tight-fitting leather took a little longer to peel off. Once they were finally gone and Axel's belt and pants were undone, he patted his pockets looking for something. He found the bottle of lube he carried with him, but the condoms were gone.

"Fuck," he cursed.

"Yes," Roxas purred.

"No, my condoms are gone. We need them –" Axel looked down at his partner, who . . . had a foil-wrapped condom between his teeth. He recognized the brand, too. "You stole them."

Roxas rose, his back arching like a cat's, and brought himself face to face with Axel. He gave the condom to Axel, who took it with his teeth, and trailed a finger down his long and lean body. "I wanted you with me," he whispered seductively, "no one else tonight."

"You didn't want me fucking anyone else," Axel said, smirking.

"Just me."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," Axel growled and nearly tore his pants off. By the time he'd thrown his jeans and shoes to the other side of the room Roxas had already made himself comfortable on the bed, his knees bent and spread with two fingers already stretching his entrance.

If there was any blood left in other parts of his body, it all rushed to his cock. He slipped the condom on – Roxas watching him the whole time – and slicked himself with the lube before he very nearly leapt onto the bed over his partner. They wrestled a bit, trying to find the right positioning, before Axel pushed Roxas onto his back and repositioned his legs so they were over his shoulders, with the lower half of Roxas' body resting on Axel's thighs as he knelt. Roxas moved up, and Axel shifted, aligning his cock with his entrance.

"Vá," Roxas muttered, rolling his hips in minute circles.

Axel tilted his hips forward, pushing the head of his cock past the ring of muscle and –

_Oh God._

Roxas hissed and moved his hips forward to meet the thrust, and Axel leaned forward, pressing deeper until Roxas' body was bent almost in half. He had to fight to keep from coming, the body wrapped around him was so tight, and burning with an intensity that probably rivaled a few suns.

"Fuck," Axel said breathlessly.

"Yes," Roxas rasped, arching his back clear off the bed and twisting his hands violently in the sheets.

The friction pulling out damn near killed him, but the next was worth it, bringing him deeper as Roxas clenched around him. He was even meeting Axel's thrusts, considering his awkward position, tilting his hips as Axel drove into him. The bed rocked with the force of Axel's thrusts, with the bed frame hitting the wall with a dull _thud_ every time. Roxas was making the most obscene noises, shouting things Axel didn't really understand but took as encouragement to go faster, deeper, harder. Everything lost meaning, save for the hot body surrounding his cock, the even hotter man beneath him, and the fiery coil in the pit of his stomach that threatened to spring as he fucked Roxas into the mattress. He felt himself losing control, and it looked as though Roxas was going through the same thing; his breath was coming in gasps and his eyes had glazed over as he stroked himself and Axel drove them close and closer to completion. Fingers raked desperately down his back, and Axel knew immediately they'd leave marks.

Roxas came first, every muscle in his body tensing and clenching around Axel as hot, pearly come painted his and Axel's stomachs. Axel continued to thrust, fucking him down and through the orgasm while holding back his own. Once Roxas slumped back on the bed bonelessly Axel pulled out gently, gingerly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled the condom off and tossed it in the trash, and was about to bring himself to his own orgasm when he felt arms reaching around his shoulders. Roxas' hand was on his cock before he even knew it, stroking it and thumbing over the head teasingly while he sucked and nipped at a spot on Axel's neck. Under Roxas' expert fingers he came soon after, come coating Roxas' hand, and dropped back on the bed just as bonelessly. Roxas followed, still sucking and kissing his neck. Axel knew it would be a very blatant hickey in the morning.

"How come you get t'leave all the marks?" Axel asked him blearily.

"What are the words? Bite me," Roxas said, his voice slightly muffled against Axel's neck. He nipped him again.

"Any time," Axel murmured.

"We have to get up," Roxas nudged him.

"Why?" Axel seemed offended by the mere thought.

"More will want to use the room."

"Screw them. Stay with me," Axel said, gathering him with his arm.

"_Vieni _con me," Roxas countered, laying kisses around his mouth. _Come with me._

"Dov'è?" Axel asked gamely. _Where?_

"Mia casa," the blonde answered, kissing him. _My house._

"Ah. Well, then. Let's go."

They made use of the sink in the corner, and washed the remnants of their orgasms off before getting dressed again and walking back down to the main floor. As they descended the stairs he was met by a few jealous looks, and Axel couldn't help but draw himself up and allow a little bit of a swagger, since he was the one fucking the blond and going home with him tonight.

The thought itself almost got the blood congregating in his cock again.

Roxas left briefly to pay for his tab, and Axel was accosted by Demyx and Zexion in his absence. Demyx was wearing a self-satisfied smirk that immediately put Axel on edge; he reached out and pulled the neckline of Axel's shirt aside. "Ah-ha! Ten Euro," Demyx crowed, turning to Zexion who reluctantly handed over the bill.

"What?" Axel demanded, trying to see what Demyx was looking at.

"It's a giant hickey," Demyx explained for him. "I think we heard you," he glanced up at the ceiling with a smirk.

"I thought it was simply the bass," Zexion deadpanned. Demyx sniggered.

"Shut up. I'm leaving."

"You are? Do the buses even run this late?" Demyx looked at his watch.

"I'm not taking the bus."

"But you can't! Remember what happened – or, I guess you don't," Demyx bit his lip nervously. "You'll get lost!"

"No I won't," Axel grinned widely.

The wheels turned in Demyx's head, and light dawned. "He's taking you home! Nice," he nodded appreciatively. "Score."

"Do you have enough condoms?" Zexion arched an eyebrow at him.

"He stole them, but I think we're all set thanks," Axel shook his head. "Look, I'll see you guys tomorrow. Maybe. We'll see. I'll call you," he pointed to Demyx as he started walking away from them.

"You better. I want details!"

"Fucking girl," Axel yelled back at him.

"Pedo!" Demyx yelled back.

Axel shook his head and made his way to the bar as an upbeat Latin dance song started playing. Roxas met him halfway, his hips swaying in time with the beat in a way that vaguely reminded him of belly dancers. Hooded, predatorial eyes captured his and with a knowing smile Roxas pulled him towards the side room by the front of his jeans. They stopped to pick up their jackets, then made their way towards the front door. He nodded to the bouncer, who snorted as Axel was pulled past him.

Roxas' moped was towards the back of the building, but it didn't seem far at all when Axel was only paying attention to the sway of the blonde's hips, the slightest of limps, and the perfect way the leather hugged his ass. He got his helmet out of the back of the moped and unlocked the chain before mounting the bike and beckoning to Axel. A thrill shot through Axel; he climbed on the back of the moped and pressed his body tightly against Roxas' back, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Roxas revved the engine and they took off.

At three in the morning red lights meant nothing. Cars and other bikes were few and far between, leaving Roxas and Axel free reign of the road for the most part. Axel teasingly traced idle patterns over Roxas' leather-clothed crotch before they started going backroads; he stopped before he caused them to get into an accident.

Twenty minutes later Roxas slowed to a stop outside a set of large doors; he pulled out an obscenely complicated-looking key and opened up the door, driving them inside. A short tunnel opened up into a small courtyard, where he parked the moped. Axel dismounted and followed Roxas up several flights of stairs; Roxas hadn't said a word since they left the club, and Axel hoped he wasn't having second thoughts.

"Tutti ok?" Axel asked tentatively.

Roxas stopped and leaned against an unassuming door, gazing at him blithely. He simply smiled and opened the door, beckoning Axel inside. Axel followed him curiously.

"Mia casa," Roxas introduced the tiny apartment. It opened up into a kitchen and eating area, multicolored and mix-matched dinnerware all over the place. It looked pretty cozy, Axel decided, taking in the rest of the area. The kitchen had several doors off of it; each one was decorated with stickers or posters and names. Axel could see the doors from left to right said 'Hayner,' accompanied with a poster of a snowboarder; 'Pence,' who had numerous photographs; and 'Olette,' which was underscored by several pictures of a female singer Axel had seen on billboards around Rome. Then there was what Axel assumed to be the bath (there was a poster of a cat sitting on a toilet with a supposedly snarky saying underneath), and on the far right was 'Rox,' and a sign saying 'No one ugly allowed.' Axel smirked; of course Roxas would know that song.

Roxas closed the door behind him and locked it, then led the way over to his room, motioning briefly to be quiet considering his flat mates.

It was dark inside, but after a few seconds of Roxas shuffling around a lamp buzzed to life, the light flickering and casting shadows all around the room. Axel glanced around; it was pretty small, and most of the floor space was taken up by a mattress though he also had two bookcases, a dresser, and a desk. There was a decent-sized poster shrine to Madonna and Britney Spears, along with posters from clubs and concerts he'd been to. A tattered Obama election poster was pinned up near his desk; Axel wondered what street corner he'd stripped it from.

The sound of a throat clearing brought Axel's attention back to Roxas instantly; he couldn't help the leer that spread across his face.

Roxas was leaning against the wall next to the door, peeling his snug leather motorcycle jacket off. "Sei stanco?" Roxas asked, raising an eyebrow and allowing a quirk in his mouth. _Are you tired? _Axel shook his head and closed in, trapping Roxas up against the wall. "That's it," he grinned, wrapping his arms around Axel's neck.

Axel leaned in close and kissed him, running his tongue over Roxas' bottom lip and into the hot cavern of his mouth. Roxas tilted his head and slipped his tongue alongside Axel's, tangling his fingers in his long red hair. His body arched against Axel's as the redhead pressed his back to the wall and slipped a thigh between his legs; Roxas moaned into his mouth and Axel shuddered with delight.

Roxas pushed them away from the wall and began walking backward towards the mattress. Once his heels met the edge of the mattress he sidestepped and sent Axel sprawling on the thick comforter. Surprised by the turn of events, Axel glanced down to the end of the bed, grinning as Roxas began crawling up his body. He cupped Roxas' cheek as he got closer, and Roxas slipped his hands under Axel's shirt and up his torso, dragging his nails as he went. The redhead shivered as he felt goose bumps spring up in their path

"Roxas," he whispered huskily.

Roxas pushed up Axel's shirt and starting kissing and licking a trail up his body; Axel's breath hitched under the onslaught. He pulled the shirt over his head, and Roxas set about exploring the expanse of his chest.

"Do you want to . . . ?" Axel asked breathlessly.

Roxas looked up, tugging at Axel's nipples with his teeth and fingers.

"I don't wanna hurt you if you're sore," Axel continued.

"Non e' una problemma," Roxas shook his head – _It's not a problem _– and released Axel's nipple from his oral assault. "No moving," he ordered with a nip to his chest.

"Ok," Axel acquiesced. He settled with watching as Roxas undressed completely and settled over him, removing Axel's shoes and pants and nipping the newly revealed flesh. Axel grabbed whatever sheets and bedclothes he could when Roxas' hot mouth suddenly engulfed his cock to the root and swallowed around the head; he was about to beg for release when he felt the condom being slipped to the base, and watched as Roxas lined his cock up with his entrance and took him in.

Watching Roxas fuck himself on his cock was an entirely different animal, Axel decided. He could do as he pleased, and in Axel's humble opinion it was even hotter than when he danced; his head and eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed himself up and down on his knees. Axel met his thrusts, at first holding onto his hips to hold him steady, then his hands roamed up to tease his nipples and earn a series of erotic sounds for his efforts. A previously unnoticed glint of gold around the blonde's neck caught Axel's attention only briefly before a long, low moan brought him back to the present reality of Roxas and the hungry way he peered down at Axel, blue eyes dark and gleaming. He bent his knees and Roxas leaned back against them as he rode him furiously; Axel wrapped his hand around Roxas' cock and began stroking.

Roxas' downward thrusts became increasingly erratic, clenching around Axel's cock in such a way that he knew would draw his orgasm from him. "Rox," he muttered; he could feel his own body preparing for climax. "I'm gonna –"

Roxas grabbed his wrists and slammed them down on either side of his head, staring him down, sweaty and panting. "I know," he said, deadly serious, rolling his hips in circles. "Dammelo."

_Give it to me._

The guttural moans of their combined climaxes filled the small apartment a moment later, and Roxas' completely satisfied smirk melted Axel's previous apprehension. The blonde moved away from him once he stopped shaking, and once Axel's softening cock slipped from his body Roxas collapsed half on the bed, half sprawled over Axel. He was looking up at him with an expression he couldn't yet identify.

After a moment Roxas said quietly, "Tuoi occhi," _your eyes,_ "they . . . they glow, I think."

"Really? It could just be the light."

Roxas shrugged and shook his head. "Non e' importante." _It's not important._

Axel turned on his side to face Roxas and wrapped an arm around his back, just simply looking at him and cataloging every freckle, every smooth plane of wiry muscle. Fully aware and no longer deliciously distracted, Axel once again discovered the thin gold chain draped around the blonde's neck and the charms dangling from it: a small gold chili pepper, a cross inlaid with silver, and a silver band set with a bright blue stone. And beneath that . . . Axel's eyes found a long white scar down the center of Roxas' chest the length of his sternum; Axel frowned. He hadn't noticed it before. "Cos'è successo?" he asked gently, trailing a finger along the scar. _What happened?_

Roxas physically shrunk away from his touch.

"Shit," Axel swore. "Fuck, I'm sorry Roxas. Mi dispiace."

Roxas eyed him warily, turning over onto his chest and stomach to hide the scar from view. Then he buried his face in the pillow.

"Vuoi mi partire?" Axel asked uncertainly. _Do you want me to leave?_

Roxas didn't answer, and Axel took that as an affirmative. He reluctantly rolled out of the bed and searched for his jeans.

"My heart," Roxas' voice filtered out from the pillow quietly, "was bad. It is better now."

The blond looked like he was going to say something else, but he stopped himself before the words left his mouth.

"It's ok, we'll talk about something else. Posso stare?" _Can I stay?_

Roxas nodded and pushed over again. Axel took his place beside him on the bed. "You know, we . . . we _really _don't know anything about each other."

"We don't," Roxas agreed.

"Not anymore. Ok, mi chiamo Axel Sinclaire, ho venti anni. Non parlo Italiano molto bene, ma cerco." _My name is Axel Sinclaire, I'm twenty years old. I don't speak Italian very well, but I try._

Roxas smirked. "Di dove' sei?" _Where are you from?_

"Sono di Chicago. In vicino, anyways. E tu?" _I'm from Chicago. Or around it . . . you?_

Roxas shifted, cocking his head. "Mi chiamo Roxas Pietrino, e sono di Genova."

"Really? Non sei di Roma?"

The blonde shook his head. "Mia famigia e' Genovese. Ho transferato qui due anni fa." _My family is from Genoa. I moved here two years ago._

"Quanti anni hai?" _How old are you?_

"Diciasei anni." _Sixteen._

"Wow," Axel said more to himself. At Roxas' questioning look, Axel continued. "That's kind of young. And it doesn't bother you that I'm four years older?"

Roxas stared at him hard, translating in his head. Then he shrugged. "Non troppo male."

"What do you mean, it's not that bad?"

Roxas shrugged at him, the lack of concern for the question painted on his face.

"Ok," Axel said, raising an eyebrow at him, earning him another shrug. He decided not to press the issue, but was still curious.

"Your Italian is very good, actually," Roxas commented with a smile, changing the subject. "I understand it well."

"Your English is really good too."

"Practice."

"No amount of practice will make my Italian better," Axel grinned.

"You think too hard, maybe," Roxas commented. "Easier if you don't."

"Well then I'll never say anything right."

"Then I will say what you mean," the blonde snickered, "so they don't laugh."

"I hope you're around to translate for me," Axel said. "I'd like you to stick around."

Roxas cocked his head at him, contemplating before grinning. "Ci vediamo." _We'll see._ Then he snuggled into the pillow again. "Dorma." _Sleep._

Axel nodded and settled into the bed, falling asleep as exhaustion crept up on him.

***

The dream was one of the more erotic ones Axel had ever had, which was saying something.

The dream were a series of situations and positions, all including Roxas; getting the chance to fuck him uninterrupted in that elevator, fucking him on the dance floor at Cube, sucking Roxas off on Cube's stage for everyone to see, then turning on his hands and knees so Roxas could fuck him. Subconsciously he could feel the heat pooling in his gut, and he shivered as the possibilities presented themselves.

Axel really would not have said no to having that dream all the time. With a side of lube, thanks.

Roxas was licking and playing with his nipples as they thrust their erections together; it was such a tantalizing image it felt _real_, and he could feel the blonde's hot mouth around the raised flesh. Axel arched into the touch, earning him a sharp pinch to the other nipple. It was only when he felt the sharp teeth around the bud that he finally woke up, hot and startled and aroused.

Roxas paused in his sucking, gave him an impish look, and blew on the wet area. Axel shivered again. "Morning," he said shakily, shifting to try and relieve the pain of the erection trapped in his pants.

"Doccia," Roxas said – _shower_, moving away from him slowly and pressing a hand over the bulge in his jeans. Then he hopped off the bed, still stark naked and picked up a towel, wrapping it around his hips before walking out the door. Axel furrowed his brow and stared at the retreating back, looking at the spot on his shoulder covered in black lines. How had he not seen that Roxas had a tattoo before?

Axel supposed that Roxas meant for him to follow, so he rolled stiffly out of bed and shucked his jeans off, willing his erection down. But the whole idea of Roxas being wet, naked, and entirely willing on the other side of the door was really counterproductive as he mentally cajoled his cock. In a mental "fuck you," his brain conjured an image of Roxas leaning against the shower wall as the water cascaded over him, panting and fisting his own cock.

Well, that was settled.

Axel picked up another towel and followed suit, creeping out into the main living area and into the bathroom. He pushed open the door and got an eyeful of a tantalizingly wet Roxas; the bathroom was really just a toilet with a tiny sink and a shower head stuck in the wall at an awkward angle. Roxas was scrubbing his hair with shampoo with his back to him, and as he walked closer he got a better look at the tattoo: is was a highly stylized key, the business end decorated with spikes on a half-circle, shaded on the edges with black and red. Eyes still studying the tattoo, Axel stepped under the lukewarm spray.

"Cold water in three minutes," Roxas said, washing the shampoo out now.

Axel washed his hair quickly, racing to get the shampoo out of his hair as he felt the water turn icy. A towel landed on him as he turned off the showerhead, shivering. "Grazie," Axel said through chattering teeth, his erection completely wilted thanks to the freezing water.

"Prego," Roxas shrugged, wrapping the towel around his waist.

Axel toweled his hair dry and followed suit. "What's with the tattoo?"

"Hm?" Roxas looked at him confusedly.

"Questo," Axel tapped Roxas' tattooed shoulder. _This._

"Oh!" Roxas recognized his meaning. He shrugged. "Niente speciale." _Nothing special._

"It's a cool-looking key," Axel commented.

Roxas nodded, chuckling. "I wanted something interesting."

"When did you get it?"

Roxas laughed a little more. "Americans and their many questions," he snorted. "L'anno scorso." _Last year._

"Am I annoying you?"

Roxas shook his head. "Is early in the morning," he explained, waving it away.

Axel looked at his watch. "It's one in the afternoon."

"Tredici?" Roxas blanched. When Axel nodded in response he started speaking in rapid-fire Italian again, but mostly to himself. Then he bolted out the door; confused and a little worried, Axel followed him back to his room. Roxas was throwing clothing around, obviously looking for something to wear. He was hopping around in a pair of tight jeans, still unzippered and barely hanging on to his hips as he pulled on a tight grey shirt and scavenged for his socks.

"What's up?" Axel asked, fighting the urge to burst into laughter at the sight.

"Lavoro," the blond answered. "I have work."

"Oh."

"Devo andare subito," Roxas said briskly, finally pulling his outfit together. _I have to go right now._ He reached up and pulled Axel down to kiss his cheeks. "Ci vediamo," he said – _we'll see each other_ – and bolted out the door.

Axel followed, still only in the towel. The front door to the apartment banged shut just as he entered the kitchen, leaving him almost completely naked where Roxas' flat mates were all gathered around the table eating breakfast and staring at him blankly (or in the case of the kid with the gelled-up dirty blond hair and camo, mutinously).

After several minutes of mutual staring Axel slowly backed up into Roxas' room to put some pants on and screw up the courage to ask one of them for directions home.


	4. Track 4: Hot and Cold

**Title:** Moped Romance [4/12]  
**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

**Warnings: **Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene.  
**Rating: **R.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Katy Perry.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** Axel does his best to find Roxas again after he looses his main source of communication.

**Author's Note: **This chapter is weird, disjointed, and probably all over the place a little bit. It took me far too long to complete; I believe the words spoken to the BetaMistress were, "Please, I want it out of my face." Enjoy!

**Cultural notes:**

Laura Pausini - .org/wiki/Laura_Pausini

Peroni - Italian beer

Abbey Theatre – an Irish pub near the city center on Via Governo del Vecchio. Boasts a multicultural staff, wi-fi, and coverage of both European and American sports, making it a popular spot for students and tourists. Ollie, Sam, Sandro, Teresa, and Tom are all real people who work at the Abbey. Sandro gives spanking lessons.

La Montecarlo – a pizzeria just off Corso Vittorio Emmanuele. Awesomely huge plates of pasta and pizza served by fast and flirty waiters.

**Another note:** For everyone unfamiliar with the sites in Rome mentioned here, I have a small album on photobucket of some reference pictures. .com/albums/ac227/darthvair_65/

Track 4 – Hot and Cold

_You're hot then you're cold_

_You're yes then you're no_

_You're in then you're out_

_You're up then you're down_

Olette, the brunette and owner of the door decorated with pictures of Laura Pausini, was nice enough to offer Axel a ride before he could even ask. Her English was also very good, which made it even easier after he crept out of Roxas' room the second time, this time fully clothed. The kid with the gelled-up dirty blond hair was gone, leaving the shorter boy with the red basketball jersey sitting at the table. The girl had hopped off her perch on the counter, gave him a solid once-over, and introduced herself before asking for his address.

As they descended the stairwell to the courtyard, Axel couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen the other three somewhere before. Then it hit him: they were the other dancers he'd seen Roxas with two weeks prior. Once they were in the courtyard Olette led him over to a row of mopeds, scooters, and bikes, obviously owned by the other people in the apartment building, and guided hers out to the door. It was bright orange, a slightly newer model than Roxas's, with white floral decals. When they were out on the street she handed Axel the matching helmet (she giggled a little as he put it on) and straddled the moped while he fastened the clasps. Finally successful he sat right behind her on the seat, which luckily was tailored for passengers to sit comfortably. Kicking the motor to life, Olette glanced back to make sure Axel was comfortable before they sped off down the street.

Olette was clearly not the suicidal driver or speed demon Roxas was, Axel decided.

"How long have you known Roxas?" he asked, shaking strands of wind-blown hair out of his mouth.

"Two years," Olette answered loudly over the moped engine. "We met in high school after he moved to Rome."

"And you've all been living together ever since?"

Olette shook her head. "He was staying with his brother at first. We moved in together last year."

"Didn't know he had a brother."

"And how do four teenagers manage to pay for rent on a place like that?" Olette snorted.

"Roxas' brother, I guess?"

Olette nodded. "He is very generous. He has a wife and two children here in Rome, but manages to help out a lot with rent."

"Never mentioned him."

"When would you talk about family if you were having sex?" Olette laughed. "You have not known Roxas very long. He probably would not tell you a great deal, not yet."

"Why not?"

"You are new, different . . . and a foreigner as well. Roxas is a very private person."

"Sure didn't seem like it to me."

"He trusted you enough that you would not try to kill us all in our sleep. He is guarded with emotions, do not expect too much."

Axel nodded; that was to be expected, he supposed. As far as being new, different, and foreign, Axel knew that went both ways; that was how he saw Roxas to a certain extent. "So, how did you guys get into dancing?"

"You recognized us, huh?" Olette chuckled as she made a turn. "Hayner, Pence and I have been dancing together for many years. When Roxas became friends with us, he decided to join. I taught him everything," she said proudly.

"Wow, and he's pretty good, too."

"He is a very fast learner, and has a very good memory. Almost . . . what is the word? Photo . . ."

"Photographic?"

Olette snapped her fingers. "Yes! When he learns something, he never forgets."

Which would explain how he remembered where my apartment was so easily, Axel thought. "Where does Roxas work? He ran out of there pretty fast."

Olette paused, as if considering what to tell him. "He works at a restaurant some weekends. His brother will not pay for clubs," she chuckled a little.

Axel nodded and was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. He was starting to recognize the neighborhood though, so that meant he was almost back to his apartment.

"It's just around the corner," Axel directed; Olette pulled a left-hand turn down the next street. He gripped the metallic side handles of the moped a little harder as they started driving across more uneven cobblestones. Finally he saw his apartment building, and pointed it out.

Olette pulled to a stop in front of his building, putting the moped on idle as Axel dismounted and removed her helmet.

"What do you think the chances of me seeing him again are?" Axel asked; Olette paused in clasping the helmet on for a moment, then finished. For the second time that day she looked at him appraisingly, a small smile on her face.

"I think they are very good," she said. "I do not think he would hate it. Call him later." With that she waved good-bye and zoomed down the street, leaving Axel at his door.

He rummaged through his pockets for his keys and opened the large, heavy door. Making his way into the foyer, Axel caught the eye of a young teenage girl, who blushed furiously and stared straight ahead, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Once it did the girl rushed to the back corner of the ancient contraption and looked down as Axel closed the multiple doors behind them. Noticing she hadn't pressed a button for a floor, Axel turned to her. "Qual'é?" he asked, referring to the buttons. _Which?_

The girl's head snapped up. "Tre," she answered, blushing even deeper as she averted her eyes.

"Okay," Axel said, drawing out the last syllable and pressing the button with the number three and then his own, six.

When the elevator started to move in its rickety, agonizingly slow manner Axel felt the awkwardness fill the tiny space. He dutifully stared forward, but he could see the girl staring at him fixatedly in their reflection in the glass; however every time he went to catch her at it personally her attention was elsewhere. Once the elevator arrived at her floor she scampered out and disappeared into her apartment, leaving Axel staring after her with a highly arched eyebrow. The elevator arrived at his floor a bit later and Axel unlocked his apartment, daydreaming about the last twenty-four hours.

Demyx was on him within seconds. "You're back!" he hollered, holding up his arms triumphantly.

"Yup," Axel grinned, a little cockily, shoving his hands in his pockets. "A little sooner than I wanted, but . . ." he shrugged.

"What, did he kick you out?" Xigbar yelled from the kitchen, obviously eavesdropping. "You must be a terrible lay."

"I happen to be very good," Axel retorted amid Demyx's restrained laughter. "He obviously had no complaints," he continued tartly.

"I guess so," Demyx said coyly, pushing aside the collar of Axel shirt just a little, revealing the hickey hidden behind it. He pushed it aside further and gave a burst of laughter. "You're covered!"

Axel brushed his hand away, chuckling. "I'm perfectly aware," he said, turning in to his room. Demyx followed, and quickly shut the door behind them. The redhead looked back at his best friend, who looked ready to pounce. "What?"

"You have to tell me everything!" Demyx was grinning maniacally.

"Hell no," Axel snorted, sitting and relaxing on his bed. "That's between me and my bombshell, thanks."

"Fine, be that way," Demyx pouted, still leaning against the door. "So why'd he kick you out?" he asked, seizing on the other unanswered question.

"He didn't kick me out," Axel answered, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head on the pillow. "He had to go to work."

"Where does he work?"

"Don't know. And his room mates wouldn't say. I think they believe I might start stalking him. Oh, check this out. He lives with the kids we saw him dancing with – they have this sweet little apartment, apparently Roxas has an older brother who helps them pay the rent."

"I was going to say, that's pretty odd for him to have an apartment on his own at that age. Even more so for all four of them. Wonder why the others aren't living at home."

Axel shrugged.

"So," Demyx prompted. "When are you seeing him again?"

"No clue. Not like I got to plan something with him before he took off for work," Axel answered.

"You should text him."

"I just left his apartment an hour ago, I'm not going to text him right now."

"True," Demyx conceded. "Texting or calling at this point could be seen as neediness or downright stalkerish. Wait a few hours."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You hungry? Zexion's making pasta and some chicken."

Axel shrugged. "Sure, why not."

"He said he might even teach me how to cook this semester," Demyx continued, clapping as he went.

"Good, then you can cook dinner for us all the time," Axel snickered, wrapping his arm around Demyx's neck. "You can be the housewife. I'll get you a little apron and everything."

"How generous," Demyx chuckled.

* * *

"Dude, you can text now. You're out of the stalker zone."

Axel glanced at the clock; it was a little after seven. Roxas might still be at work, but if anything he'd leave a message for him. He left the kitchen just as Xigbar was strolling in, making the call for Kings, for which there was a resounding ovation. Smirking as he thought about being able to hook up with the blond again Axel rummaged through his clothes from the previous night in his laundry basket. He dug into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his few remaining Euros and his monthly metro card; Axel frowned and turned out the other pocket, feeling the smooth plastic of his cell phone in neither.

It's here somewhere, he thought, and abruptly stood upright. Axel began scanning each part of his room carefully and, not seeing it in any obvious place, made quick strides over to his bed and pulled the sheets and blankets off. Even after he shook them out, no phone fell out.

It has to be, he thought desperately and dropped to the tiled floor to look under the bed. Scowling deeply, anxiety and frustration kicking in, he checked all the places it might have somehow gotten to: his pillow, under the mattress, in Xigbar's bed, in his bag of condoms, leftover suitcase, industrial-size jar of hair wax –

"Demyx," Axel called agitatedly as he recapped the jar.

"Yar," Demyx called back; Axel could already hear the alcohol in his voice.

"Have you seen my phone?"

"Nope. Why, have you lost it?"

"Well, maybe I have, since I can't seem to find it!" he yelled back.

"Somebody call his phone," Axel heard Demyx say, a little lazily.

Axel stalked out of his room and into the kitchen, glaring at the group of guys – and Larxene, when did she get here? – sitting around the dinner table with glasses of wine, Peroni, and a bunch of cards at the center. Usually Axel enjoyed playing Kings, but right now he wanted to kill something.

"Oh there you are, all back safe and sound from your little sexfest?" Larxene drawled.

"Not now," Axel growled; Luxord had his phone to his ear and was waiting expectantly. But for all of two minutes Axel couldn't hear the annoying jingle his phone made when it was being called. Nothing. Zero. Zip –

"Fuck."

There was a full and pregnant pause, save for some stifled chuckles, before Demyx opened his mouth. "Don't tell me you lost your fucking phone."

"I had it!" Axel said helplessly. "I know I did!"

"If you really think about it," Zexion said, taking a sip of his red wine, "there were numerous places where you could have dropped it and never noticed. You did, after all, spend a good deal of time taking off your pants and keeping them off. There's no telling where it might be now."

Horror and disbelief set in, and Axel blankly left the room. Once he was in his own bedroom he swore fiercely and kicked the wall. "Shit!"

There was a knock on the door, and Axel looked up to see Demyx standing in the doorway. "What."

"Come play Kings with us, Ax," Demyx asked after a minute. "There's nothing you can do right now. Just come . . . I don't know, drink your frustrations under the table. We'll get you a new phone tomorrow."

"I don't remember his number though, I want to call him again –"

"It's not the end of the world though, Axel. Have you looked out your window lately? Isn't that the Saint Peter's dome out your window? You're in Rome," Demyx said wistfully, gesturing to the open window. "There are going to be plenty of guys like him, I'm sure you won't only get lucky once."

When Axel didn't answer Demyx sighed and moved in front of him. "Come on. Let's get you a Peroni and a chair, you can play Kings with us." Then he pulled Axel from his seat on the bed and pushed him towards the kitchen.

* * *

Later that week Axel, Demyx, and Zexion made the trek to the Irish pub near the language school they were attending to use the wi-fi; it was always kind of a hassle since it was a well-known hangout for university students, especially Americans. The best wi-fi was in the bar, but there were maybe two electrical outlets you could get access to. Despite this Axel loved the Abbey Theatre; the workers were from all around the world, most were completely bilingual, and they'd help you with homework or give you advice on your conversational Italian if you asked. Ollie, the Welsh bartender, shared anecdotes from his younger years as a milkman while experimenting with new shots to serve on Student Tuesdays; Sam and Sandro were the only ones who were actually Irish, and made it their business to make up new and exciting twists on their sacred Guinness; Teresa was actually Italian and Spanish, and had gone to a few bar concerts with them the first month; Tom, the manager, was known to rush the waitress Alex into the basement whenever the police came in since she was an American working and living in Rome illegally; there were always various other waitresses whose names Axel never really learned.

Axel ordered his usual: penne arrabiata with a pint of Strongbow, and sat down with Demyx, who was setting up his laptop. They were on a mission: since Axel had lost his phone Demyx had vowed to help his friend search Facebook, MySpace, and any other social networking site they could think of to find Roxas. Axel hoped he at least had a Facebook. However, all of their attempts to find him on the Roman streets had proved in vain, not only because of the sheer number of people but also because he was probably in school Zexion reasoned.

Once the internet connected and Demyx's own Facebook profile was brought up, Demyx nudged the redhead in the ribs. "What's the kid's name?"

"Roxas," Axel answered promptly. "Roxas Pietrino."

"How do you spell that?"

"R-O-X-"

"No, no, the last name. I got the first."

"Oh – P-I-E-T-R-I-N-O."

Demyx nodded and finished typing, then clicked 'search.' Anticipation fluttered in Axel's stomach in those few seconds, making him feel slightly nauseous. Then the search results came back.

Nothing – though there was a Pietrino listed, Roxas didn't have brown hair. And Axel knew quite well he was a natural blond.

Axel paused, assessing the results. "Are you sure you spelled it right?"

"Yeah, man – just like you told me."

"Then he seriously doesn't have a Facebook. I'm beginning to think I did something really, really sucky to someone. My Karma is kicking me in the nuts so hard."

"Well hold on, now. We haven't even tried MySpace," Demyx reasoned, holding up a finger."

"What's MySpace?" Sandro the bartender/waiter asked as he put Axel's plate of penne arrabbiata down.

"It's a social networking site a lot of people use in the States," Axel started. "Well, I don't, but Demyx does for his music."

"Oh, who are you looking up?" Sandro asked excitedly; Axel was very glad that while Sandro was a little nosy, it was in a totally good-natured way.

"A guy I met last week," Axel answered, content to leave it at that. Ollie called him over to the bar to pick up his Strongbow, which Axel took as an opportunity to leave the conversation.

"This kid picked him up and took Axel home when he was too drunk to walk down Corso Vittorio," Demyx sniggered as he was sitting back down, taking a sip of the amber-colored cider.

"I could walk," Axel shot back, "I just chose to sit at that point."

"You were drunk off your arse is what you mean," Sandro countered, his Irish accent prominent since he was speaking English.

"There was a lot of absinthe that night," Demyx said with a grin.

"Ah yes, my favorite poison."

"Anyway," Axel interrupted, "we're looking for the guy who saved my ass that night. We ended up meeting later, and we met up at Qube earlier this week."

Sandro hissed. "You don't happen to mean Saturday night, do you?"

Axel paused. "Yeah, why?"

Sandro grimaced and whistled. "There are some parties at Muca where every single gay man who happens to be a creep crawls out of the woodwork to go – and Saturday night was one. Even the straight ones show up hoping to nab a lesbian drunk enough to take upstairs. And they can sense fresh meat, too. I tell you, you're lucky you hooked up with him as fast as you did. Fresh meat, all alone . . . for serious, Muca's a great place to hook up and find a good lay, but a little on the iffy side."

Demyx raised an eyebrow. "What's Muca? Isn't that a cow?" he asked Axel on the side.

"Muca, Qube, same thing," Sandro said cavalierly. "And your boy probably won't have a MySpace. That's an American thing. Anyway, if he was such a catch didn't you get his cell number?"

Axel chose to glare at the laptop screen than answer.

"Forget I asked," Sandro chuckled, and went back to the bar.

"Want me to look anyway?" Demyx asked.

Axel paused, poking at and contemplating his penne arrabbiata. "Google him."

"As you wish."

Axel listened to Demyx type and went back to his pasta now that it was cooled off. He stabbed a few of the noodles and a few pieces of pancetta before popping it into his mouth, savoring the spicy sauce and the smokiness of the pancetta.

"Dude, I think I might have something."

"Hmm?"

"It's . . . huh, it's a newspaper article. Mentions him, but it looks like it's talking more about his family. Pietrino, right?"

Axel pushed his plate aside and leaned in closer to the screen. The whole article was in Italian. "Zexion!" Axel shouted, his voice carrying through the first few rooms of the pub.

"What?" Zexion sounded irritated, so Axel guessed he probably caught him in the middle of food.

"We need your help!" Demyx answered for him. "Please."

Axel heard a chair scrape over the wood flooring, and a few moments later Zexion appeared beside them. "What is it?"

Demyx pulled the chair aside so Zexion could see the screen. "Can you translate this? You know what you're doing better than we do."

"I would agree with that assessment," Zexion snorted, settling himself in front of the laptop. He studied it for several minutes, raising an eyebrow slightly as he went. "First off, this article is about four years old. Second, what you have is an article from a gossip magazine based in Genoa."

"Oh."

Axel paused. "That's where Roxas is from."

"Whatever I translate should be taken with a grain of salt, understand?" Zexion sighed, scrolling down the page a little more. "It says that there was this Catholic bishop who was a close friend of the Pope, and that he was rumored to have a mistress somewhere up north. Supposedly reporters traced this mistress to a villa outside Genoa; they found her living in the lap of luxury, no doubt funded by this bishop, with two children, ages eleven and twelve. Later they discovered she had an older son living in Rome. Anyway the reporters tried to link the woman with the bishop, and he completely denied being their father. He continuously maintained he kept his vow of celibacy throughout the investigation. They were just trying to break the scandal."

"Did they succeed?"

"Doesn't appear that they did," Zexion said, shaking his head. "The bishop might have bought them off, or," he shrugged. "I don't know."

"And then two years later Roxas runs away to live with his brother," Axel said, sitting back on the tall bar stool.

"You really think this is Roxas' family?" Demyx asked, eyeing the article on the screen warily.

"I don't know. If I ever find him again I'll ask him about it. As if that'll happen the way I'm going." Axel took a deep sip from his glass of Strongbow and turned his gaze out to the Via Governo del Vecchio and the people passing through.

* * *

The tour, Axel decided, wasn't all that bad. He hadn't really been out on an excursion to explore the city of Rome since his arrival – and his drunken wanderings could not be counted since he barely remembered them. Plus, they had a guide. A petite Roman woman with a heavy accent, but a guide nonetheless. She promised to take them to some of the more iconic sites in Rome before they all fell asleep or got too hungry, and so far Axel was more than satisfied.

They were making a giant loop around Ancient Rome, he discovered; after meeting their guide in front of the scuola she led them across Corso Vittorio and through several sidestreets until they arrived at the Jewish ghetto – or what remained of it from the near constant development and the destruction in the 1940s. Axel immediately felt out of place standing in the piazza as the guide explained the historical significance of the area; the buildings and restaurants all had a homey atmosphere that was welcoming yet aloof. Women leaning out of their tiny balconies smoked their cigarettes and surveyed the area coolly; old men sitting at tables watched the crowd of students through a cloud of pipe smoke. Axel made a point of where the synagogue, one of the more famous structures in the area, was located, as he would probably end up visiting its museum at a later date.

Afterwards the guide had taken them to the Circus Maximus, which Axel thought was a little disappointing after the guide had revealed that the Circus was, until recently, occupied by a power plant and the space that had become so famous was just an approximated representation in a field. She pointed out the Baths of Caracalla a short distance away, advising them to visit when they had the time.

The Mouth of Truth had come next; they each had pictures taken with their hands poised at the stone mouth, though Axel acted like his hand was being bitten off during his turn.

They walked back across the river once everyone had their turn and ended up at the Coliseum. Their guide explained that they would not be going inside, that they could do that on their own time, but went on to give a general overview of the building's history. She was interrupted several times with questions regarding gladiators and mass murder, at which point she halted all questions and declared that no, _Gladiator_ was not a truly accurate historical resource.

As they circled the massive structure Demyx nudged Axel in the ribs and pointed. Axel followed his gaze and saw a rainbow-colored banner hanging over the entrance to what appeared to be a café.

"Sandro said that's the entrance to Rome's version of the Village," Demyx said excitedly. "You know, in New York City? Sandro says that's where you have to start a night out."

Axel squinted. "Looks a little small."

"We should check it out later."

"Sure."

The Wedding Cake, aka the Victor Emmanuele monument ended up being the next stop on their tour; the Coliseum and the much more modern, white architecture were connected by one large boulevard – a move engineered by Mussolini to connect the glory of Ancient Rome with the Fascist regime. The boulevard itself allowed for a great look into the Roman Forum, whose ruins Axel could never really imagine once being the center of life in Rome. They climbed up to one of the terraces overlooking the city with a direct view down Via del Corso to the Piazza del Popolo. With the cool wind whipping his hair around despite the haphazard ponytail, Axel leaned against the railings, watching the ant-sized people swarm on the streets below.

"Man, I'm getting hungry," Demyx groaned pitifully.

"Easy there, kid, I think there's a pizza place nearby," Xigbar snorted.

"Ha ha ha," Demyx answered, not playing into Xigbar's humor.

"No seriously. There's supposed to be a few pretty good places near the school. Come on, what do you idgits think?" Xigbar continued, wrapping his arms around their shoulders and looking between them expectantly. "What about you, flamesilocks? How's about some food? Guys' night out!" he announced. Xaldin and Lexaeus muttered something sounding like agreement.

"Only if you're buying," Axel snorted. "Not all of us have huge amounts of money to spend, you know."

Axel felt Xigbar's arm tighten around him like a vice, and found the upperclassman glaring at him.

"You're gonna get a pizza. It's not gonna break the bank." With that he patted their shoulders and moved away.

"Well," Demyx said with enthusiasm, looking pale and a little horrified. "That was awkward."

Axel raised an eyebrow at him. "Xiggy's being awful friendly all of a sudden."

Demyx looked at him agitatedly, biting his lip. Color blossomed on his cheeks and ears.

"What?"

"He totally just grabbed my ass," Demyx replied through gritted teeth. "Like, seriously."

"Um. Pretty sure Xiggy's straight."

"I'm not lying."

"I get that, I'm just saying – "

"Forget it," Demyx snapped, glancing around and looking paranoid. "It was nothing."

Axel shrugged and went to catch up with the group, dragging Demyx along with him. After another ten minute walk they arrived at the Pantheon, which was swarming with tourists. Even all of the cafés surrounding the building were filling up; it wasn't anywhere near Italian dinnertime, a little late afternoon snack never hurt anyone. Now, Axel was no Architecture major and never claimed any great knowledge of buildings, but he found the Pantheon pretty cool. The guide was going on about shapes, symmetry and something to do with geometry, but Axel wasn't really paying attention. He managed to sneak inside for a few moments, just trying to get the feel of the scale of the temple and dome, with the perfect circle right at the top. Larxene eventually had to grab him by the ponytail and drag him out.

The last stop, since the sun was setting and the guide had promised they would be on their own for dinner, was Piazza Navona and the Fountain of the Four Rivers at its center. The cafés lining the piazza had all lit their candles and outdoor heaters in preparation for the dinner rush, while the hawkers and musicians had come out in full force. One guy tried to tie a string around his finger and tell him it was worth five euro, and another kept shoving a fake Louis Vuitton bag in his face.

Once he escaped he discovered that the guide had left so they could find dinner. It was getting a little chillier, and Axel had to stuff his fists in his pockets to keep his hands warm.

"So where are we going?"

"Place called La Montecarlo," Demyx answered. "Or that's what Xigbar has in mind, anyway. He says it's only a few minutes away."

"Good, because I'm freezing."

It turned out that La Montecarlo was only a few blocks from the Abbey, nestled on a side street between Corso Vittorio and Via Governo del Vecchio. The restaurant looked fairly unassuming, not like it was arguably one of the best pizza places in Rome. Once they opened the door the combined aromas of roasting garlic, cheese and baked bread wafted out and lured them into the much warmer environment. Axel could see the wide brick oven in the kitchen from where he stood, and watched as waiters, dressed casually in their own jeans and fitted gray t-shirts, darted from the kitchen to the dining room bearing drinks and food briskly. Photographs covered almost every inch of the walls; pictures of groups posing with glasses of wine and food, all with one man in common.

After a few minutes one of the waiters took them to their table, laying glasses out and letting them know their waiter would there shortly. Axel grabbed his own multi-lingual menu and started looking through all of the choices. Unfortunately from the fried rice, tomato and mozzarella supplí, to the four cheese gnocchi and pizza, it all looked good.

"Axel," Demyx said quietly poking him in the ribs.

"Hm."

"Isn't that . . ."

Axel looked up him. "What?"

Demyx nodded to a point somewhere behind Axel. "Isn't that Roxas?"

Axel whipped around so fast he almost knocked over a drinking glass, and found himself staring directly at the blond teenager he'd almost given up hope of finding. Not only that, but he was holding a little pad of paper and a pen, and was wearing the waiters' jeans and gray t-shirt.

"Drinks?" he asked, looking beyond Axel.

"Well hey there," Xigbar said and Axel wanted to kill him. "Water and some house wine for all of us, I think."

Roxas nodded and promptly disappeared.

"Ouch," Xigbar said, not sounding sympathetic in the least.

"Comments not appreciated," Axel snapped.

"Ooh, touchy. Looks like you're out of luck."

Axel clamped his jaw shut to keep from retaliating, focusing instead on breathing steadily to keep his anger under control.

Nothing changed when Roxas returned with three bottles of house wine and began taking their orders. Axel sat quietly and watched him as he went around the table, hoping to catch his eye. Roxas didn't even acknowledge his presence until it was finally his turn, though that didn't make much of a difference at all; he acted as though he had never seen Axel before in his life, and couldn't have cared any less.

"And you?" he prompted when it was Axel's turn.

Axel paused, still staring for a few seconds until he realized he had to say something. "Uh," he muttered, faltering slightly, "the pizza _con prosciutto _– with prosciutto, per favore."

Roxas nodded shortly and left just as quickly.

"I don't know Axel, I think you might have made a bad impression on the kid. I got the distinct cold-shoulder routine girls use when the guy they sleep with doesn't call them back."

"I'm sure you're well acquainted with it," Axel shot back. "Although, when was the last time any girl actually wanted to call you back after a night in the sack? They probably got something contagious."

Xigbar's grin turned nasty. "I could say a lot of things right now about some interesting diseases any of your bedmates might have been getting, but I'm going to keep my mouth shut since in general I think you're a pretty decent guy."

"Your charity is astounding," Axel snarled.

"Don't get bitchy with me, you're the one who fucked up."

"Yeah, you know, I got that after the first time. Thanks," Axel snapped.

"Just tryin' to help," Xigbar snickered, putting his hands in the air innocently. Other muted snickers broke out down the table.

"Fuck you all. Die in a fire." Axel poured himself a generous glass of the red wine and drank deeply.

Demyx leaned in tentatively. "I was rooting for you, you know. Xigbar's an ass."

Axel shrugged, but otherwise ignored him. _So much for a guys' night out._

The rest of the dinner was marked by uneasy conversation and eventually, a few successful attempts at humor to bring the mood back up. Axel pretty much ignored them after his argument with Xigbar, preferring to watch the blond as he maneuvered through the tables briskly, particularly at the way his legs and ass moved in the jeans. Roxas had brought their food about twenty minutes after they'd ordered, never saying a word, even as he placed the large thin-crusted pizza in front of Axel. The redhead had attempted to catch his eye, but Roxas still seemed determined to act as though he didn't exist at all.

Waiters in general didn't seem too worried about making sure their customers' meals were all in order; Roxas only returned to write the final total of their bill on the paper table cloth and then to collect the money. After that they were set to leave; tips were discouraged.

As they were leaving La Montecarlo Axel caught a fleeting glimpse of the blond and decided to take a chance. "Roxas!"

After a few seconds Roxas appeared, glaring at him intensely. "What."

"I'm sorry –"

"Your friends are leaving," Roxas interrupted.

Axel glanced behind at the door, and noticed they were already out on the sidewalk. "Yup."

The blond huffed. "You will be lost if you do not go with them."

Axel shrugged. "You could always give me a lift home," he chuckled weakly, backtracking once he saw the mutiny and rage boiling up in Roxas' expression. "Or maybe not. Look, I'm sorry. I meant to call you. I wanted to."

Roxas looked skeptical. "I wasn't expecting much," he said coldly.

"I lost my phone," Axel drove on, "probably at Qube. It must have fallen out of my pocket. I'm sorry."

"Why do you think I care?" Roxas scoffed. "We never said we would get together again. You are making things up."

"But I was hoping we could," Axel said, moving a little closer to the blond. "I really liked you. I'd like to go out with you again."

Roxas paused for a good minute. "Like a date."

"Yeah! Well, whatever you're up for really –"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no?'"

"No. No dates. Especially not with Americans."

"Why the fuck not?"

"You come and you go, you Americans," Roxas virtually sneered. "And you would not like our dates."

"Oh really? Try me."

"Why should I?" Roxas put his hand on his hip, as if this was wasting his time.

Axel frowned, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Like I said. I like you, and I would like to go out on a date with you."

Roxas wrinkled his nose. "This is about the sex," he stated flatly, rolling his eyes.

"No! Well, I – the sex was, frankly, awesome, but," Axel paused to think about the next few words, "I'm interested in getting to know you more."

The blond stared, blinking, as if caught by surprise.

"What – did I say something weird?"

Roxas gave a little snort and, a few seconds later, a resigned nod. "Ok. Fine. One date."

Axel started. "Really?"

"Sí. One date, one Roman date. Friday night. We will see, how about that?"

Axel nodded eagerly. "Sure, just tell me when and where."

"Ventuno – nine. At Coming Out, I think you can find where it is," Roxas smiled wryly.

"That sounds great," Axel grinned, feeling giddy. "I'll be there."

Roxas nodded. "I must work. I will see you then."

"Can I get your cell number real quick?" Axel asked, fishing for his new phone.

"Friday night," Roxas called, already turning back into the restaurant, still giving him that wry smile.

"Oh. Cool. Yeah, I'll see you." Axel waved a little as the blond walked away.

Axel actually didn't have any issues finding his way back to his apartment this time.


	5. Track 5: Circus

**Title:** Moped Romance [5/12]  
**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

**Warnings: **Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene. And in this chapter – Reno, drag queens, Long Island Ice Teas and romantic settings.  
**Rating: **R.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Britney Spears.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** The Italian dating scene is not quite what Axel expected – but when the possibility of a second date is in the hands of more than just Roxas, Axel makes a bid for the blond's affections.

**Cultural notes:**

~ Coming Out is a gay bar/café about a two minute walk from the Coliseum; the description is pretty accurate too.

~ In case you're unaware, Amsterdam is the capital of the Netherlands and features a vibrant and diverse culture of entertainment well-known amongst college students studying abroad and such. The coffee houses are known more for their marijuana than coffee beans, and the red light district is pretty prominent given the status of legal prostitution. I'd like to go some time :D

~ Italian prisons – don't ever go to jail in Italy. You'll probably never leave. :/

~ on the Italian in this chapter – Roxas, when he's around Axel, does his best to speak a sort of amalgamation of Italian and English. Axel does the same. Axel's Italian, when he's thinking, is choppy. Some people, and I've witnessed this, speak Italian better and more fluidly when drunk, even if they're pretty new to the language. So that is what happens here; Axel also begins understanding the language better.

~ I use feminine pronouns when talking about the drag queen in this chapter since she is still in drag.

**Another note: ** Sorry this took so long to post, I hope it's worth the wait! My life has been pretty busy since posting the last chapter – I'm three weeks from graduating college, I've almost certainly procured a well-paying job for the summer, and I've been accepted into grad school! The last few months have also been a really distracting time as far as fandom goes; since posting Track 4 I've written three longer stories, two drabbles, and three kink meme fills, and thanks to the mechanizations of a certain lover/drama cultivator began a love affair with -man. Haha, I've been a busy girl.

**But wait, there's more: **As I write this, the lovely BetaMistress has finally completed her Honor's Thesis, all 84 pages of it! She's been working really hard on it for the last year, so leave her some congrats :D It focuses on gender and sexuality in Japanese comics and especially on boy-love, the women who write it, and the fans who read it! She's considering posting it on her LJ if anyone is interested in reading it, which I will highly recommend.

Track 5 – Circus

_There's only two types of guys out there:_

_Ones that can hang with me, and the ones that are scared_

_So baby, I hope that you came prepared_

_I run a tight shift, so beware_

_I'm like the ringleader_

_I call the shots_

_I'm like a firecracker_

_I make it hot_

"Dude, you in?"

Axel glanced up from his laptop over at Demyx. He had been attempting, for the last twenty minutes at least, to call his brother with Skype to no avail. "In on what?"

Demyx gave him a maniacal grin that should have frightened Axel to the core. Be that as it may, Axel knew Demyx had something crazy and downright awesome up his sleeve. "Amsterdam."

"No shit! When are we going?"

"March thirteenth," Demyx answered immediately. "We skip class that morning, take the Leonardo Express into Fiumicino, hop a twelve o'clock flight into Schiphol, take in the sights – "

"The coffee houses," Axel offered.

"The red light district," Demyx countered.

"The sex museum," Axel fired back.

"The coffee houses," Demyx said dreamily.

"Dude, I already said that."

"I know, but we'll go to more than one. Fancy trying some space cake? My cousin said he thought he was a dinosaur half the time."

"You lost me when you said 'fancy.'"

"Anyway – then we'll turn around and end up back here in time for class on Monday. No problem."

"Sure, alright, count me in. Let me know how much the tickets cost so I can get the money from my brother."

"Aren't you Skyping him now?"

"Yeah. I'll give him the heads up about it."

Demyx chuckled. "Good luck getting it out of him."

Axel hummed in agreement and went back to his table and laptop. Just as he was sitting down he heard the sound of an incoming call; he clicked the little 'accept' button and watched as the video window popped up, revealing his brother.

Though he was his elder by eight years, Reno could still pass himself off as Axel's twin if he really wanted to. The only noticeable differences between them were their styles of dress, hair cuts, and tattoos. Reno was mostly distinguishable by his hair; he called it a statement, Axel just called it a mullet.

"Hey squirt."

"You jackass, you've been ignoring my calls for the last half hour. What gives?"

"Sorry man, I was busy," Reno answered casually, turning around briefly to wave at someone Axel couldn't see. Horny bastard was probably screwing some poor chick up til five minutes ago. "Doing laundry."

"It's funny how much you seem to _love_ doing laundry, seeing as I'm usually the one who ends up doing it."

"And you're not here to be my ready and willing slave – "

"I'm never willing."

"Beside the point. Man's got needs."

"Of course."

"Clean underwear is a necessity, squirt."

"Will you quit calling me that?"

Reno snorted. "So. How's life across the pond?"

"It's a lot better, actually."

"Oh really. Should I be worried?"

"I have a date tomorrow night."

"That so. Who'd you have to pay?"

"Shut up. I didn't have to pay anyone."

Reno just nodded, a small smirk on his face indicating he didn't completely believe him.

"Why does everyone think I'd have to pay someone to go on a date with me? Seriously, this is getting ridiculous."

"Because you're an asshole."

"You never seem to have an issue getting a date, but you're all kinds of asshole!"

"I have class, squirt. Chicks dig that."

"You? Class?" Axel snorted. "Obviously you're still paying."

"Uh huh. Let's just see how fast you run out of money."

"Well. Since you brought up money –"

"I knew it. You're broke. You're not taking any more of my money."

"Come on! We're planning a trip to Amsterdam. Could you please put some more money in my account so I can buy the plane tickets?"

"Amsterdam? That is truly a quality destination, my brother. I recommend the red light district."

"I knew you would. So will you give me some money?"

Reno rolled his eyes. "I guess I can lend my little brother some money so he can get high legally. I'll put some money in your account in a little bit."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, just bring me a few grams, will you?"

"That would be drug smuggling, Reno. And I'm not going to prison for you."

"I hear Italian prisons are very accommodating insofar as your . . . needs."

"No thanks, I'd be awaiting trial for, like, ten years."

"Oh yeah, they're just getting to try that girl they say killed her roommate, right?"

Axel nodded. "So I think I'll pass on a stay in Italian prison, thank you very much."

"Wuss."

"Mullet man."

"Hey," Reno cut him off sharply, narrowing his eyes in almost-seriousness. "Keep the hair out of this."

"I'll go after your hair whenever I please, fucker."

"See how much money I give you, kiddo."

"Whatever."

"Look, I have to go put another load of laundry in," Reno said; Axel saw a pair of long legs just beyond him through the camera and he sighed. _Knew it._ "Be good, squirt."

"Yeah sure. Say 'hi' to Mom and Dad for me, ok?"

Reno nodded. "No problem. See ya," he said, then the video cut out.

"Dick," Axel muttered, logging off his computer.

*

Friday finally arrived with much anticipation on Axel's part; since Roxas had told him the name of a bar with a complete lack of more information, Axel was forced to use other means. Once again he turned to the school's computer lab and discovered that the bar was actually in the 'village' Demyx had pointed out near the Coliseum, which would make it easy for him to get there by metro. He refused to allow Zexion or Demyx to try and help him get there, but they kept giving him tips so he wouldn't get lost on the way as he was getting dressed. Otherwise they were pretty unhelpful, making bets about the outcome of the night.

"Five Euros says it's a trap," Demyx snickered.

"Ten says Axel gets lost on the way," Zexion deadpanned, offering his palm.

"You're on," Demyx grinned maniacally, slapping Zexion's hand to confirm the bet.

"Twenty says Axel makes an ass of himself and the brat kicks him to the curb," Xigbar cut in.

"You're all _so_ fucking helpful," Axel muttered bitterly, triple-checking his pockets for everything he needed before shooting them cold looks and escaping out the door; he heard Demyx's muffled "Good luck" as he closed the elevator doors.

The bar was easy enough to spot; along with a sign that displayed 'COMING OUT' in large letters, there was a lit-up rectangular sign with blocks all the main colors of the rainbow. Axel could hear the base pounding from inside the bar as he drew nearer, strobe lights changing colors in the venue. Groups of young, well-dressed and well-groomed men were already congregating outside, sipping beers and colorful mixed drinks as they socialized. He tried to make his way towards the entrance while several men – all gorgeous and speaking Italian that Axel didn't quite comprehend – grabbed his ass and tried to pull him into their group. Once he was free Axel bolted for the clear glass doors, only to find himself within a crush of people in the cramped space. A well-stocked and colorful bar was to his right, a row of small tables crowded with people eating, drinking, and smoking to the left. Not seeing Roxas anywhere in the first room Axel made his way into the next, admiring the gay-themed Skyy vodka advertisements on the walls – he particularly liked the one of the two male hands touching the elevator hold button at the same time. It made him think of elevators and the things he never got the chance to do.

Finally he made it through into the next room segment of the bar; the second area was more of a lounge than a bar, with groupings of supple-looking leather couches and ottomans occupied by more people.

"Axel!" a very familiar voice called; Axel turned around, looking for the source. Roxas was standing amidst one grouping of couches, drink in hand, grinning and waving him over where he was sitting with several other teenagers. "I am glad you found your way," Roxas chuckled when he got closer. He looked damn sexy, blond hair tousled artistically and blue eyes popping, emphasized by what might just be a hint of dark eyeliner. Dressed in slim-fitting dark pants and a deep burgundy dress shirt this time, Axel was certain that no piece of clothing the blond owned could possibly look bad at all.

"Wouldn't miss it," Axel answered, letting himself be guided over to an open spot beside the blond. He looked around, recognizing Roxas' three roommates and a few others he'd never met before.

"You know Hayner, Pence, and Olette," Roxas was saying in his accented English. "This is Naminé," he gestured to a petit blond girl, who smiled and waved. "Tutti – ciò é Axel." _Everyone, this is Axel._

Hayner made no move to acknowledge his presence, but the others seemed pretty friendly enough. Suddenly Hayner leaned in to Olette's ear, whispering something; Olette rolled her eyes and shook her head, pushing him away playfully. Axel frowned – what kind of 'date' was this?

"Ti piacerebbe un bicchierino?" Roxas prompted.

Axel floundered for a moment, trying to translate the sentence back through the conditional until finally he decided Roxas was asking him if he wanted a drink.

"Sure, uh, sí," he said. "Che cosa buono?" which hopefully translated to _What is good?_

Roxas chuckled. "Il té," he said with a devious smirk on his face, which spread to the others. "The Long Island Ice Tea," he clarified, "é molto buono." _The Long Island Ice Tea is very good._

The alarm at the back of Axel's brain went off; that drink was almost 100% hard liquor. But based on some of the looks he was getting, it was a challenge. There was also a waitress waiting to take his order. He nodded, and Roxas turned towards the waitress to relay the message.

"Dove sei studiando?" Olette asked abruptly, obviously trying to break the awkward silence that had stretched on since Axel arrived. _Where are you studying?_

"Scuola Leonardo da Vinci," Axel answered, glad for the distraction. "Negli stati uniti studio . . ." Axel searched for the words, "scienze politiche e italiano." _In the States I study political science and Italian._

"Ooh, é difficile?" Olette asked. _Is it difficult?_

Axel nodded vigorously. "É terribile," he chuckled. _It's terrible. _

"Che ti penso su le guerre?" Hayner interrupted, glaring at him. _What do you think of the wars?_

Axel felt his stomach drop; this was the sort of thing the study abroad coordinators had warned them about. "Non si piaciono." _I don't like them._

Hayner continued barking at him in Italian, speaking so fast Axel couldn't understand what was being said. "Non capisco italiano bene," Axel tried to explain, but Hayner kept laying into him. _I don't understand Italian well_.

After a moment Hayner seemed to say something particularly offensive; Olette's jaw dropped and she elbowed him. Roxas cut in sharply, snapping "Ehi!" and glaring at Hayner. The others sitting with them looked uncomfortable. Hayner's jaw clamped shut as he glared back.

"Uh," Axel murmured, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He got up and climbed around the others, making for the back of the bar where there was a line for the restrooms.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm; he looked down and saw Olette standing there with a sympathetic look on her face. "Oh, uh, hi Olette."

"I'm sorry about Hayner," she said sheepishly. "He is against this."

"What is he against? Roxas invited me on a date, I don't get what is going on."

"Yes, a Roman date."

"What does that even mean?"

"This is what it is," she said patiently. "We go out with our friends. If we want to date someone we take them out with our friends, since our friends are very important."

"What, no 'dinner and a movie' situation?"

Olette shook her head.

"So I have to get you all to like me."

"Our friends' opinions are very important. We will not date someone if they cannot be among our friends. And . . . you are American. We do not really expect a relationship to develop between you and Roxas. Hayner thinks Roxas is being stupid for entertaining you."

"What did he say?" Axel asked warily.

Olette blushed slightly. "He, uh. He was wondering why you were still around. Since you got to have sex."

Axel blanched. "So since we had sex I can't try to see him again?"

Olette shrugged. "Hayner probably thinks you just wanted the sex. So he's confused."

Axel snorted in response. "Well fuck that. I like him. And I'm not going to let Hayner fuck that up."

Olette's smiled widened. "That is good to hear. You must prove him wrong."

"Well, I mean, he has got a point – I'm not going to be here forever, but there's no harm in it."

Olette patted his arm reassuringly. "In bocca al lupo," she said with a grin; literally _in the mouth of the wolf_ but generally meaning _good luck_.

When Axel returned to the table his Tea had arrived; he climbed over the others' legs and sat beside Roxas. He picked up his drink and took a deep sip, hiding the small wince at the strength of the drink. Tequila, gin, rum, triple sec, vodka – all deadly and in a tall glass, he was most likely doomed.

"Tutti ok?" Roxas asked, leaning in to him. _Everything ok?_

Axel nodded.

Hayner snorted derisively. "Americani." _Americans_.

"Hai un problemma?" Axel asked sharply. _Do you have a problem?_

Hayner rolled his eyes and shrugged. Axel smirked and took another sip, smaller this time so he wasn't kicked in the throat by the amount of alcohol. He had been fully aware of the amount of liquor in a Long Island Iced Tea – the recipe Coming Out used was just really potent and he didn't want to be drunk too early in the evening. He thanked every deity in the universe that absinthe was not involved in the drink.

Pence elbowed Hayner in the ribs and chuckled at him; when Hayner scowled and snapped something under his breath and in Italian, Pence laughed at him again.

Naminé took the opportunity, while Hayner was distracted, to shift closer and lean in so he could hear her. Axel was pleasantly surprised that it was easier to understand her questions; after all, they were staples in the conversational Italian he was used to. _What classes are you taking here?_

"Ah," Axel paused, thinking. "La storia d'arte, l'architettura, la lingua, l'arte." _Art history, architecture, Italian, art._

Naminé clapped her hands and grinned. _Paint, pencils, what do you like?_

"Le matite," Axel nodded. _Pencils_.

_Do you like landscapes, figures?_

Axel shrugged. _I'm not so good with landscapes._

_Have you been to the Vatican Museums or the Capitoline to sketch?_

Axel shook his head. _Not yet. We're supposed to go this week._

She smiled widely. _I shall take you with me to sketch. I know the best places._

_I'd love that_. _Just tell me when._

Naminé turned to Roxas, winking at him. _I like this one._

Axel felt a thrill go through him, feeling suddenly much more confident around Roxas' friends now that at least one of them deemed him good enough for the blond. And . . . that conversation had been incredibly easier to understand. He didn't even have to think as hard to answer her, the words flowing easier as he relaxed among Roxas' friends.

Stiletto heels clicked across the floor next to them, along with a boisterous, carousing voice that was both feminine and masculine at the same time. Roxas and the others, as well as the occupants of the tables across from them, looked towards the aisle and shouted happily in greeting; Axel followed their gazes to find a tall, statuesque drag queen talking with some of the others around their couches.

"Oy, Margherita!" Olette squealed, returning from her trip to the bathroom; she reached out and pulled the drag queen into a hug, despite Margherita being almost two feet taller than her in the heels.

"Ah, comé stai, carina?" Margherita asked, hugging her back. _How are you, darling?_ The drag queen's short, lacy black skirt revealed a round ass and an equally lacy black thong and garters, her corset top accentuating her thin waist. Dramatic makeup, complete with bright red lipstick and dark, glittery eye shadow, exaggerated her expressions even more. "E tu, Nami, Pence, Rox," she continued, smiling brightly. "Hayner," Margherita sniffed, less friendly.

Pence started outright laughing at Hayner's obvious discomfort; Roxas giggled, leaning in to Axel's shoulder as he held back from laughing hysterically.

"Ahi, - chi sei?" _Hey, who's this?_ Margherita asked, her gaze falling on Axel. Roxas introduced him while she fanned herself. Then she continued speaking, but Axel didn't quite understand; whatever she said she was purring, tugging at the edges of her skirt demurely and revealing a glimpse of the front of the thong and the bulge she wasn't trying to conceal any more.

Roxas slipped an arm around Axel's shoulders possessively, leveling a slight glare and a smirk at Margherita.

Margherita cocked her hips and chuckled, saying something to Roxas in Italian that Axel didn't quite catch. Roxas snapped back at her, the smirk never really leaving his face even then.

"Fai attenzione," Margherita said flirtatiously, tapping right beneath her lips. _Be careful_, she'd probably eat him alive given the chance.

"What'd she say?" Axel muttered to Roxas.

"Margherita was wondering who you belonged to," Roxas answered, looking at him through lowered lashes.

Axel chuckled and finished the rest of drink. Roxas was on a first-name basis with one of the drag queens frequenting Coming Out. He could totally dig that. He just wasn't going to tell Marluxia where the other drag queens hung out.

By one in the morning Axel had downed a total of three Long Island Iced Teas, and was, in a single word, blissful. He was speaking in Italian easier, the liquor slicking his throat so the words slipped forth freely; at least they were making sense – they must have been, because all of them were chatting as though they'd been friends forever. Roxas remained a solid, warm presence at his side throughout the night, though by drink number two Roxas had an arm wrapped firmly around his waist and a hand rubbing his upper thigh.

By drink number three Axel's hand was cupping Roxas' ass and he was murmuring drunkenly against the blond's neck, Roxas giggling at the onslaught.

Suddenly Roxas was standing, tugging Axel along with him through the crowded bar. They were outside within minutes, the air chilly without their jackets on. Roxas was pulling him out on the streets near the Coliseum, tangling their fingers together as they walked along the side of the bar.

"You are doing well," Roxas said with an inviting smile, hands warm against the chill. "They like you a lot."

"Think they'll let me come out with you again?"

Roxas nodded confidently. "Sooner than later. You should meet us Sunday."

"Just tell me where."

"Via del Corso. We will be dancing," Roxas grinned, nibbling on his ear.

"What should I listen for?"

"Lady GaGa."

"I'll be there," Axel said, squeezing his hand.

"You better," Roxas threatened lightly, as though he didn't doubt Axel would at all. "It is beautiful, right?" he asked, nodding his head off to the side.

Axel followed his gaze and looked up at the enormous ruin of the Coliseum, its gold, purple and blue lights illuminating the magnificent architecture softly. The building itself was almost glowing, a regal and awe-inspiring aura that caught Axel off-guard. It was . . . romantic, he decided, then immediately blamed the amount of liquor surging through his veins for making him so sappy. "Yeah . . . it's gorgeous."

"Come," Roxas said suddenly, tugging him by the hand towards the ancient monument, the inviting smile back with full force.

Axel followed him across the street, barely checking for the rush of cars and mopeds that were so common on the Roman streets. The blond leaned against the ledge, crossing his arms over the tops of the wrought iron fence, pulling Axel next to him to look up at the glowing building. Axel grinned, leaning in and wrapping his arm around Roxas' waist to pull him closer. Roxas laid his head against Axel's shoulder, then tilted his head up and closed the (already small) distance between them, capturing his lips in a deep kiss.

Axel felt his insides warm and his heart beat erratically in his chest; he could taste the mango liquor on Roxas' tongue from his Cuban Beach, the cigarette smoke on his breath, the faint remains of Chap Stick on his lips. His arms enveloped the shorter boy, wrapped around him tightly as his fingers scratched over his shoulders. Roxas arched up into the kiss, mirroring his grip and pulling Axel against him so he was pinned against the fence. The rest of the world disappeared with the kiss, dissolving to focus completely on the boy in his arms, against the fence looking out at the lit-up Coliseum, the warmth of his pliant body spreading to Axel's.

Abruptly Axel's world was jarred by the sounds of foreign giggles; at first he ignored the interruption, but as it persisted the world around him returned to view. The Coliseum, iron fence, the main road behind them . . . the tiny clicking noises of a camera phone and muffled giggles. Still deeply involved in the kiss Axel opened his eye and glanced over at the source of the giggles.

Olette, accompanied by Margherita, Hayner, Pence, and Naminé, was blushing and giggling as she took pictures on her tiny Italian phone. She waved energetically. "Ciao!"

Roxas broke away from the kiss and made a vaguely outraged sound, reaching out to snatch her phone away; Margherita grabbed it instead, cooing and fanning herself as she admired the image on the screen. Hayner was just shaking his head, thankfully not making any comments. As Roxas made another grab for the cell phone Axel backed off a little to give him room to chase. He darted over to Margherita, snatching the phone from her hands to get a good look for himself. After a moment he grinned and leaned back against Axel, holding the image up for him to see.

Axel adjusted the cell so he could see it better, smiling wickedly at the image they made: so completely involved in their kiss, arms wrapped around shoulders – wait, when had Roxas' hand migrated to cup his ass? He laughed, planting a wet kiss on Roxas' cheekbone, right where his blush extended cutely.

*

It was two thirty; the metro had stopped running, as had most of the bus lines. Coming Out had closed, patrons left loitering out on the patio or leaving to continue their night in other destinations. Axel had sobered up slightly, though the gin and tequila were certainly still working their magic on his inebriated brain. Roxas was in a similar state, still extremely friendly and liberal with the placement of his hands. He'd expressed his desire to take Axel for a drive before returning to the apartment, which had Naminé and Olette exchanging glances and grins as they straddled Olette's orange and white moped. Hayner and Pence had seen another friend of theirs and were headed to the Ice Bar with him; Axel decided that sounded like an awesome place, and that he and Roxas would go there at some point.

At the moment however, Axel was strapping himself into Roxas' helmet while the blond prepped the moped for a drive. A brief thought about driving while inebriated flew through his mind, but Roxas knew what he was doing and was more sober than him. He straddled the moped behind Roxas, his arms wrapped around the blond's waist as the vehicle lurched forward and picked up speed. He shifted forward a little more and leaned his chin on the blond's shoulder, the cool breeze hitting his face while strands of blond whipped across his cheek.

The streets were relatively empty, so Roxas was able to drive at a more leisurely pace. They drove by the Forum, the illuminated ruins lighting the way towards the Victor Emmanuel monument and the older city center. Axel took in the city as they passed through, realizing they were heading in the direction of the Vatican, which was also lit up in the darkness – light blues and greens illuminating the dome and regal columns.

Roxas slowed as they came up on the architectural outstretched arms of St. Peter's, until he pulled the moped to a stop at the separated, rounded barriers. He put his feet on the cobblestones and pushed the moped through into the courtyard. They moved towards the center and the large glowing fountain; Roxas cut the motor and twisted around, taking Axel's helmet off. Axel moved off the back of the moped and sat on the stone edge of the fountain, while Roxas swung his leg over the handlebars and planted his feet on either side of Axel's legs against the edge of the fountain.

"Did you have a good time?" Roxas asked, tilting his head to the side.

Axel nodded. "I've had an awesome time. I'm glad your friends ended up liking me. Though you could have warned me I was going to have to impress your friends if I wanted to keep seeing you," Axel laughed, kicking playfully at Roxas' leg.

Roxas burst out laughing, kicking him back. "You have their approval. And I like you."

"I guess that makes up for my trauma."

"Your trauma?" Roxas snickered. "Ah. It is worth it, right?"

"Oh, you're very worth it," Axel said with a grin.

Roxas raised an eyebrow at him, smiling softly. "You are so very strange," he said in response.

"Was it worth it, giving me a chance?"

Roxas made a show of thinking, a smirk lighting up his face. Then he nodded. "You will have many more chances as well."

"Oh?"

"Yes, when you keep coming out with us!" Roxas laughed, reaching over to poke Axel on the nose. "If you are with me my friends are yours as well. They will keep an eye on you."

Axel caught his wrist and pulled him off the moped, tugging Roxas closer; the blond giggled and stumbled forward to straddle Axel's thighs, with his knees on the flat part of the fountain.

"Fai attenzione," Roxas whispered in his ear. "Il Papa abita qui." _Careful, the Pope lives here. _

"Then the Pope can be a voyeur," Axel chuckled. "I'm sure he sees enough."

Roxas chuckled heartily and kissed the edge of his mouth. Axel tilted his head to fully capture his lips and deepen the kiss. The blond relaxed against him, his back curving under Axel's touch as he moaned into his mouth. Axel slipped his hands under the blond's shirt, sliding up over his back and shoulders.

They lingered for a while in St. Peter's Square; Axel lost track of time in the warmth of the blond's embrace under the glow of the Vatican. Some time later Roxas pulled away from his embrace and stood, pulling Axel up with him. "I have work tomorrow," he was saying. "And your apartment is close, I will drop you off."

"Wow, it's almost four," Axel mused as he looked at his watch. He took the offered helmet and buckled it under his chin. "I'll have to get one of these for myself if I'm going to be going out with you more."

"Yes, since your head is too big for my helmet," Roxas chuckled, throwing his leg over to the other side of the moped. Axel resumed his position behind Roxas and wrapped his arms securely around his waist since he was starting to feel sleepy. The blond revved the engine, and they were moving again.

"Hey, so you think I can get your cell number now?" Axel asked. "So I can call you to go out or something?"

Roxas nodded. "Of course."

"Don't say 'of course' now, you wouldn't give it to me last week," Axel teased.

"I thought you used me," Roxas admitted. "Not that we usually have big expectations or anything."

"I know, I screwed up."

Roxas turned his head to glance back at him with a smirk. "No worries. You are forgiven."

"Thank you."

Roxas nodded and didn't speak the rest of the way, taking turns left and right until he slowed down in front of Axel's apartment. He twisted around in his seat, holding his hand out. "Cell?" Axel pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to him, unsnapping the clasp on the helmet. A few moments later Roxas handed the phone back, grinning and pulling him in to another kiss. Then he planted a hand on Axel's chest and gently pushed him away. "Ci vediamo," he whispered. _We'll see each other_.

Axel fitted the helmet on the blond's head and dismounted from the moped; once he was at the door Roxas beeped the horn and sped away. Chuckling to himself, Axel made sure his phone was securely in his pocket and unlocked the front door, letting himself in and taking the elevator up. He could already feel the sleepiness setting in and fought to keep himself awake, though by the time Axel stumbled into his apartment and fell onto his bed face first he was snoring.

*

His skin felt warm, Axel realized, disgruntled by this development. He'd been sleeping deeply, peacefully – but then the sun started hitting his face, making his nose twitch. Axel shifted in his sleep, frowning and nuzzling into his pillow, immersing himself once again in his wonderful dream involving a blond and a moped.

Then he heard a giggle. Axel's brow furrowed and his frown deepened.

Another giggle. This time accompanied by the pattering of large bare feet. Giggling again. Then –

"Geronimoooooo!"

Axel's eyes flew open in fear only seconds before a large, heavy body landed on him and started tickling him. "Gerroff me!" Axel yelled, his shouts muffled by the pillow and Demyx cackling in his ear. The redhead threw elbows back at his friend, who was far too awake for this time of the morning.

"When'd you get home?" Demyx was giggling, still tickling him. Finally Axel managed to throw him off; Demyx grabbed his ankle as landed heavily on the floor, and pulled Axel out of bed to the floor beside him.

"What the hell?" Axel yelped. "You little bitch," he sniped.

"How was your night?" Demyx asked, ignoring the venom in his tone.

"You all owe me money," Axel grumbled, picking himself up to crawl back into bed. "I got home around four. Lemme sleep."

"But it's, like, two."

"Fuck'ff," Axel muttered, pulling his blankets around him again.

Instead of leaving him alone, Demyx jumped on the bed beside him and leaned his chin on Axel's shoulder. "So how'd it go? If I owe you money, tell me. Tell me tell me! What's a Roman date?"

Axel groaned. "You go out with the person's friends. If they like you, the chances of you dating them goes up. I did fine. Leave me alone."

"Ugh, you're such a bitch when you're tired."

Axel grumbled and swiped blindly at Demyx as if swatting a fly, pushing him away. "Go 'way."

"When are you gonna see him again?"

"Tomorrow, they're going to be dancing on Via del Corso. Now go away, I need my beauty sleep."


	6. Track 6: Right Round

**Title:** Moped Romance [6/12]  
**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

**Warnings: **Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene, sex.  
**Rating: **R.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Flo Rida.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** Roman antics in four acts – including possibly the hottest language lesson ever recorded.

**Author's Note:** We're half-way kids! The BetaMistress asked for sexytimes, and luckily that was planned anyway! I've been doing a lot of writing during my downtime at work, so pieces/parts of all the rest of the chapters have been written or begun now that I'd like to see if I can get the majority of this fic done and posted before Birth By Sleep is released September 7 – because let's face it, I won't do much of any writing until that game is finished. And even after that, it'll rape my brain and muse.

Also, I listened to "Alejandro" a lot while writing this chapter XDDD

Happy birthday, muse! 3

**Cultural notes:**

~ 'Others' is an actual store Even I walked out of there with a pair of pants. However I didn't remember the names of the men working there, so GianCarlo and Lorenzo are completely fictional – if not heavily drawn from the men I remember.

~ The accident Axel mentions is an actual event; my Italian professor was in a moped accident like the one described early on in our study abroad. He was in a doctor-induced coma for a while, but he's ok now Roman traffic is extremely dangerous, and accidents like this happen a lot.

~ Italian curses are hilarious. They are long, and usually have something to do with pigs or cows and rarely ever make any sense.

~ As far as the 'language lesson', my main source was "Talk Dirty Italian," by Alexis Munier and Emmanuel Tichelli. I originally received it from the BetaWife before travelling to Italy last year, but things happen and backpacks get stolen from asshole taxi drivers, so I recently bought myself a new copy. It's full of a lot of good slang terms for all sorts of situations/things, so with that in mind I decided to use it for Roxas' lesson. None of them are technical terms since I don't think a teenaged Roman boy would use them at all ;)

Track 6 – Right Round

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down_

When Axel woke a few hours after having been tackled by Demyx, he felt mostly re-energized with only a small shadow of a headache from the three Long Island Iced Teas he'd had the night before. Once again it was Demyx who forced him out of bed, because the rest of the apartment was getting ready to head out for dinner and to watch the Lazio-Barcelona match over a couple beers. Begrudgingly Axel dragged himself out of bed, asking Demyx where they were headed for such an occasion.

"Campo de' Fiori," Demyx answered happily, clapping excitedly.

Axel had unfortunately learned that the Campo had a bit of a reputation last night upon mentioning it at dinner with Roxas' friends; it was the place where Americans went to get drunk, and where Roman guys knew they had a better chance of scoring some American pussy. 'Well then,' Axel thought, smiling halfheartedly, 'sounds classy.'

They ate in a decently-sized but crowded restaurant with TV's stationed throughout and watched the match while eating their dinners. However, with so many people packed into the place, a bought of cheering usually preceded someone getting elbowed in the head. Otherwise they were able to sit and cheer the goals made by Lazio with bottles of Peroni in their hands, all while Axel attacked his gnocchi given it was his first and only meal of the day.

Once the match was over Xigbar insisted that they stop over at the Drunken Ship, which was crowded with young American students. Axel suddenly realized why the place had such a not-so-nice reputation among the Romans; everyone was drunk or almost there, behaving obnoxiously for the sake of it and screaming on the tiny dance floor. They didn't end up staying long since Axel wanted to get up early to go see Roxas, and the guys in the architecture program wanted to head out and visit some churches, possibly even attend mass at one of them.

So instead of staying at the Drunken Ship for too long they returned to their apartment and played a rousing and vicious game of Uno followed by a nightcap of Kings before Axel called it a night – even though he'd already slept through most of the day he fell asleep pretty quickly, wondering how tomorrow was going to go and trying to decide which Lady GaGa song they'd be dancing to.

When he woke again, it was a proper morning-ish hour along the lines of eight o'clock. Of course Axel wasn't quite aware of that, since he was having a rather glorious dream involving Roxas, the blond's pert, round ass, and maybe a schoolgirl outfit. He woke up achingly hard, jarred from his wonderful dream by Xigbar's loud, snuffling, bus horn of a snore. Groaning as he rolled out of bed and hobbled to the bathroom, his erection tenting his flannel pajamas, Axel locked the door tightly behind himself and leaned back against the wall; he pushed the front of his pants down and pulled his cock out, grunting as he began fisting it. But it wasn't his hand, it was

_Roxas' hands, slightly smaller and a little rough from handstands while dancing on concrete – he was covered in a light sheen of sweat, yes, from dancing and he was practically glistening under Axel's gaze, his hands moving over Axel's dick and pressing down against the slit – his warm, fuckable mouth enveloping the head, sucking wetly and fuck, he wanted to fuck his mouth so he urged Roxas' mouth down, down, down, down until Roxas swallowed around his cock and Axel could feel his throat working around the head and Roxas was moving, pulling away and taking him in, hands cupping his balls and pressing right behind them, just – right – there – _

And Axel came with a powerful shudder and a quickly-repressed shout, his come hitting the shower floor. He stood there hunched against the wall, panting breathlessly and trying to get his heart rate back under control. Once he did he turned on the shower and stepped under the mercifully warm spray, washing away the remnants of his orgasm.

The anticipation was getting to him.

Feeling infinitely more confident after his morning shower session and the date two nights prior, Axel made a nice breakfast for himself Sunday morning with some eggs, spinach and tomatoes. He had earned the approval of Roxas' friends, now it was time to hang with them some more and get to know them – and Roxas – a lot better. Once he was done with his hearty breakfast Axel went back into his room to get ready to meet Roxas on Via del Corso. Dressed more simply since it was a day out and he wanted to be comfortable if they decided to head out somewhere, he hopped on the closest bus to the city center and got off on the shopping street. Via del Corso was crowded for the middle of the day, and Axel started making his way up towards the squares where he knew he'd find Roxas.

Of course, it always helped when Lady GaGa was playing obnoxiously loud to the accompaniment of animated clapping. Axel grinned and followed the sounds of "Beautiful, Dirty, Rich" playing down the block.

He arrived right at the tail end of that particular song, the dance ending with the group's usual flare and bravado. Olette had been at the forefront for that number, and she surprised Axel immensely. She had said that Roxas had learned everything from her, and only now did he truly believe her; their styles and movements were incredibly similar, only hers seemed more refined with years of dancing instruction rather than a photographic memory. From what little he remembered of dancing from one of his brother's ex-girlfriends, she'd probably had ballet and maybe some form of ballroom dance given the way she was moving through the steps. It was much clearer now that Roxas had indeed been trained in dancing by Olette.

Axel had seemingly arrived at the end of their dance time; after "Beautiful, Dirty, Rich" they performed a familiar dance to the Pussycat Dolls song "When I Grow Up." He figured they had to recycle some dances since they didn't really have all the time in the world to develop and perfect new dances every week.

Once "When I Grow Up" concluded Olette began passing around the hat for donations, while the boys gathered together their dance mat and music equipment. The crowd that had surrounded them began dispersing, returning slowly to their intended routines or destinations; Axel chose that moment to approach Roxas and the others. Olette and Pence greeted him happily while Hayner remained cordial at best. Roxas, meanwhile, abandoned his task to pull Axel down in a one-armed hug and kiss him – much to the joy of some women (and men) still milling about in the area.

"Nice to see you, too," Axel teased once Roxas broke the kiss. Roxas smacked his arm playfully and released him.

Once they were finished packing up Hayner, Pence and Olette went off in another direction, towards the metro stop behind the Spanish Steps.

"Where're they off to?" Axel asked.

"Hm?" Roxas responded, looking expectant and slightly confused.

"Dov'é vanno?" _Where are they going?_

Roxas smiled proudly_. _"Ah. Vanno a loro case. Visitano le loro famiglie." _They are going to their houses. They're visiting their families._

"Oh. Cool," Axel said. "So. Dov'é andiamo?" _Where are we going?_

"Andiamo a mia appartamento. Ho molto fame." _We are going to my apartment. I'm really hungry._

"Cuciniamo pranzo?" _We're cooking lunch?_

"Si. Facemo Panini, va bene?" _Yes. We'll make Panini, sound good?_

"Sure," Axel said, nodding. They began walking down one of the side streets, where a couple dozen mopeds and bikes had been parked. Axel was able to pick out the old silver moped easily, since most of the vehicles were a bit newer. Roxas pulled out the helmet from the compartment where Axel usually sat and handed it to him, while Roxas hid the speakers and sound equipment in there. 'I really have to get my own, he really shouldn't be driving this thing without one,' Axel thought. He had already heard that one of the professors from another school – a native Roman and moped user – had gotten into a terrible head-on collision with a van last week, and he was still unconscious at the hospital. Axel didn't want Roxas getting hurt if they got into an accident because Axel was wearing his helmet.

Once they had both mounted the bike Roxas revved up the engine and backed out of the spot carefully before getting back out onto Via del Corso. Of course any moped ride with Roxas at the helm was bound to be a heart-attack inducing adventure through Roman traffic. It was also Sunday, so not as many cars were out fighting for space on the road – and consequently Roxas only shook his fist and cursed at a few drivers. There was a near-miss with a city bus, but that was normal. Roxas was a frighteningly aggressive driver; Axel feared the day he ever attempted to drive in Chicago or Boston, never mind New York City. He shuddered at the mere thought.

But anyway, three shaken fists, one "Porca puttana vacca troia!" (_filthy whore cow sow!_), and one near miss later they arrived at Roxas' apartment building, all in one piece. After locking the moped up at his spot in the courtyard they made their way up to the apartment itself.

Roxas immediately went over to the refrigerator in the kitchen and started pulling out different ingredients – whole tomatoes, heads of lettuce, deli bags of prosciutto, a plastic bag of fresh mozzarella in water to keep it fresh, olive oil, some spices, and ciabatta rolls.

"Planning a feast?"

"É talmente allupato!" Roxas growled, pulling a large knife from one of the drawers.

"What?" Axel asked, having never heard the expression.

"Hungry," Roxas translated. "Very hungry."

"Starving?" Axel supplied, which earned him a vigorous nod. "I see."

"I had only espresso this morning, and I had mass!" Roxas said defensively; Axel decided that his Italian-accented English was very endearing. And he'd mentioned mass, hadn't he? Of course growing up in the recognized home of Christian Catholicism Roxas would have probably been raised Catholic, but didn't the Church have a pretty strong stance on homosexuality here? Axel mused. Apparently not enough of a stance to frighten Roxas, who seemed completely unaware of Axel's current mental tangent. The blond went to work slicing the rolls open and cutting the tomatoes and mozzarella into slices.

"You were going to dance on the street and you didn't eat?"

"Non mi prendi in giro quando ho un coltello nella mano!" Roxas said, mock-threatening. "So che usarla, puttana." _Don't make fun of me when I have a knife in my hand! I know how to use it [ ]._

Axel blanched; he understood most of that, just not the last word. "Che cosa hai detto?" _What did you say?_

"Puttana," Roxas repeated, but the redhead still didn't understand. "You do not know?"

Axel shook his head, feeling vaguely out of the loop.

Roxas smirked, but still struggled with the correct way to translate it for him. "Ah. Bitch," he said, his grin widening.

'Larxene?' Axel's mind immediately offered. Then, "Wait. You just called me a bitch."

"I did," he answered, sounding immensely satisfied with himself as he gestured vaguely with his knife; Axel shied away from its intended trajectory with a snort.

"Careful there Don Corleone, that's not a sword."

Roxas cackled. "Sono il Signore, e sei mia puttana." _I am the Godfather, and you are my bitch._

"No such luck," Axel chuckled, moving in to build his sandwich with the parts assembled now.

Roxas also started making his sandwich, and brought out some of the mismatched plates for them to use. He took the top half of his ciabatta roll and drizzled olive oil on it, followed by a pinch of the spices before pressing the top half back on. They ate in relative quiet until Roxas finished his sandwich and turned on Axel.

"So, you did not learn to say 'puttana?'"

Axel shook his head, chewing on a bite of his sandwich. "Wasn't on the vocabulary list, sorry."

"Do you know these? Succhiotto, cappella, brodo, impalare, mettimelo dentro?"

Axel shook his head again; all of those words had sounded very sexual to him, but he'd never heard them before so he had no idea. Roxas, meanwhile, looked devastated.

"I will teach you," he said suddenly, nodding decisively.

"You'll teach me naughty Italian?" Axel said with a sly grin.

Roxas nodded again. "L'italiano dal letto," he winked. _Bedroom Italian._

"I am at your mercy, Master."

"The basics," Roxas said, swiveling in his chair to face Axel. "'Toccare," he intoned, putting his hand on Axel's arm.

"To touch," Axel recalled. That one _was_ on their vocabulary list.

"Good. Now . . . toccami."

Axel paused. "Touch me?"

"No, me!" Roxas chuckled, taking hold of Axel's wrist to guide his hand to Roxas' bicep.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Axel said, rubbing his thumb idly over the skin on Roxas' arm. His skin felt incredibly warm and was still a little damp from sweating during the morning dance routine.

Then Roxas pulled aside his shirt collar to reveal the mostly-healed hickey left by Axel not two nights before. "Succhiotto," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Succhiotto, hickey," Axel repeated under his breath.

Roxas made a show of thinking about the next word to teach him, then leaned in close, his palms on Axel's thighs. "You should know this. Bacio," he said, breath ghosting over his lips.

"Well that's an easy one," Axel whispered, closing the distance between them and kissing Roxas on the lips. The blond responded enthusiastically, returning the kiss.

"Now," Roxas breathed, breaking their contact momentarily. "The deep kiss, like this," he murmured before sealing their lips again and slipping his tongue into Axel's mouth to tangle with the redhead's. Axel curled his tongue around the blond's and moaned into the kiss, hand caressing Roxas' neck and jawline. Then Roxas broke away again. "La slinguata."

"La – what? Is that even a word?"

The blond chuckled heartily. "Una altre parola per 'bacio con la lingua," he explained. _It is another word for 'kiss with the tongue'._

"Ah," Axel nodded, tugging Roxas closer. "Mi baci?"

Roxas snickered; Axel then realized he'd probably said something in a completely stupid way due to his poor understanding of articles and whatnot. However Roxas dispelled his anxieties, climbing smoothly onto Axel's lap and straddled him, reengaging in the kiss and deepening it again as he pushed the redhead to submit. Suddenly he reached between them and cupped Axel's erection firmly, rubbing him through the denim of his jeans. "L'erezione," Roxas said, almost purring while Axel let out a strangled groan.

"More," he grunted, pushing his hips up into Roxas' hand to achieve more friction.

"End lesson one," Roxas said, his voice abruptly devoid of any traces of lust that were there not seconds before. Axel blinked up at him, mind confused and lacking any and all decision-making power. "Toccami."

Axel paused to clear his head and remember what the word meant. Once the haze had cleared he put his hands firmly on Roxas' hips to demonstrate his understanding. "Toccami," he repeated, swallowing.

Roxas nodded, satisfied with his response. "Bacio," he said, moving on to the next word. Axel immediately kissed him, jerking him closer by his hips and grinding them together. The blond groaned into Axel's mouth as they kissed, and Axel took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue along Roxas'. Then Roxas pulled away once again, glaring playfully. "Quello?" _That?_

Axel groaned, not only from the loss of Roxas' mouth and his inability to remember in a situation like this but also his increasingly hardening erection, which rendered thinking almost completely impossible. "Er. Pass?"

Roxas smiled knowingly. "La slinguata," he said insistently, poking him in the chest. "Ricordarla!" _Remember it!_

"Sure, sure," Axel said quickly, pulling the blond back in.

Roxas ground their hips together again, rolling his own down against Axel's as they continued making out feverishly. It wasn't until they heard a tell-tale squeak of the wooden chair legs burdened by two young men thrusting against each other that Roxas stopped again and contemplated another route. Still nipping at Axel's lips Roxas whispered huskily, "Vuoi andare alla camera?" _Do you want to go to the bedroom?_

Who knew that an Italian lesson could almost double as foreplay? Axel nodded and the blond slid off of him, pulling him up and into his bedroom.

Axel tumbled back against the mattress, his back pillowed by sheets and blankets, as well as a thick pillow he used to prop himself up on his elbows. Roxas crawled over him, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans and pulling them down his legs while the redhead watched hungrily. Once he was completely naked Roxas lay down, propped over Axel's legs and lower body.

"Fai attenzione," Roxas said clearly, his palm curling around the hard, twitching shaft. "Il cappello," he continued, his hand tightening around Axel's erection and beginning to pump up and down, earning a hiss from the redhead's mouth. Axel arched his hips into the touch, biting out a repetition of the word. 'Ok so, _cappello _is cock, pretty much,' Axel's brain supplied. Then his cock was enveloped in a warm, wet mouth, Roxas' tongue teasing the slit; Axel moaned at the sensations, reaching down with one hand to thread into the hair on the back of Roxas' head. After a moment the heat was gone and Roxas released him, demanding his full attention again. "Un bocchino," he said clearly before going down on him again.

'Bocchino, blowjob. No way I'm remembering these.'

As predicted moments later Axel couldn't have come up with the word for 'blowjob' if his life depended on it. All had been reduced to Roxas' amazing mouth, lips wrapped around his shaft and sucking gently, his tongue moving over the vein and up to tease the crown. Both Axel's hands had wound their way into Roxas' hair, holding him in place and guiding his head as the redhead writhed beneath him. He lost track of time under his ministrations, until he felt a slick finger probing at his entrance; Axel's eyes flew open and he tilted his hips to allow for better access. It had been a while since he'd been fucked, but he knew the blond would make sure he was ready.

"La cula," he heard Roxas murmur, lifting his mouth away from his cock as he twisted his finger inside him, smoothing lube against his entrance and inner walls. Axel didn't even try to respond that time, since immediately after Roxas took him in deeply, humming around his shaft, drawing a choked cry from Axel's throat.

Roxas kissed and nipped a trail up from Axel's groin to his jawline, dragging his tongue along various parts of skin. Axel shuddered, at the mercy of the blond's tongue as he bit Axel's lower lip gently, tugging on it. "Want to put it in you," he whispered hotly, thrusting his hard length against Axel. "Want to fuck you," Roxas whispered again, this time into Axel's ear, his tongue playing with the lobe.

"Fuck me," Axel groaned, as the blond's teeth nipped the skin of his ear. Roxas moved away, presumably to get more lube; when he reappeared his mouth descended on Axel's cock, one hand cupping the underside of his upper thigh while he began working more fingers into him.

With all of the combined sensations Axel was starting to get close, and he tried to warn Roxas of his impending orgasm by attempting to guide his head away. The blond must have got the picture because he released Axel's cock, leaving it hard, twitching, and covered in saliva while he continued to work, with Axel hissing in frustration and lifting his hips into nothingness.

Then Roxas' fingers were gone, pulled abruptly from him; Axel lifted his head to see what he was doing and nearly came on the spot. The blond made for such a sexily sinful tableau, his body naked and quivering as he rolled a condom on his obviously achingly hard cock. He caught Axel watching him and smirked, putting on a show as he slicked himself with lube as well.

Axel snapped. "Come on," he urged, reaching for him. The blond shuffled closer on his knees, his cock jutting from his body proudly, and pulled a pillow from the side of his mattress to slide underneath Axel's lower back and give him some support.

"Adesso," Roxas growled, leaning in close and teasing Axel by rubbing the head of his cock against his entrance. "Mi dici, 'mettemelo dentra.'"

Neurons in Axel's brain fired, working absurdly well to translate given his condition. _Now say to me, 'put it in me.'_ He looked up at Roxas, eyes dark with lust as he pushed again, almost breaching him but not quite. "Mettemelo dentra," he whispered, spreading his legs just a little more.

Roxas looked shell-shocked for half a second before the expression was replaced by a predatory grin. Axel fisted his hands into the sheets as Roxas rolled his hips, pushing into him in slow, even strokes while the blond moaned loudly above him. Once Roxas' cock was buried to the hilt he stayed there, grinding his hips in a torturous cyclical motion while Axel writhed. After a few moments of this, as he waited for Axel to adjust, Roxas grabbed Axel by the hips and held them tightly, pulling out ever so slowly until just the head remained. Color staining his cheeks, Roxas got Axel's attention again. "Impalare," he said, waiting for recognition.

'Wait. 'Impalare' sounds a lot like 'impale,' does that mean -' Axel's thought process cut off abruptly when Roxas thrusted forcefully, effectively impaling Axel on his cock. "HO-ly fuck," Axel choked, adjusting his position as Roxas began pistoning his hips; hard, deep strokes stimulating his prostate insistently and making sparks fly behind Axel's eyelids, jolts shoot up his spine.

"Scopare," Roxas muttered, hands gripping Axel's hips tighter as he thrusted. "To fuck," he translated, his lips quirking up into a satisfied smirk.

Axel might've chuckled if he was listening to Roxas' lesson anymore; his focus was more on the hot, hard length impaling him and abusing his prostate. The blond hunched over him, his hands sliding up to get a handle on Axel's slim, slick waist as he gave short, forceful strokes that slapped skin against skin. Axel arched his back against the pounding thrusts – for such a small guy Roxas certainly could pack a mean punch and thrust.

The atmosphere in Roxas' room quickly became humid and heady, the squeaking mattress and low moans and grunts giving away their activities. Axel much preferred an empty apartment for hot, vigorous sex anyways.

"Sborrare" Roxas grunted as his thrusts became more erratic as they continued, with Axel now rolling his hips up to meet Roxas' thrusts better. "Stai sborrando?" When Axel didn't answer the blond growled out, "Are you _coming?_" and accentuated the word by pulling out almost completely and shoving his cock back in.

"Oh God," Axel gasped. "Yes, oh God."

Roxas paid a great deal of attention to Axel's cock as they approached their climaxes, stroking his shaft feverishly while thrusting deeply. Axel came first, his back arching up against Roxas' body and clenching around his still-hard cock. Roxas himself came with a sharp cry moments later, riding out his orgasm with increasingly shallow thrusts while Axel shuddered beneath him. Finally Roxas stilled, sighing deeply, and began pulling out while holding the condom in place. After tying it and throwing it into the trash, Roxas flopped beside Axel, laying his head contentedly against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath under his ear. Then Roxas casually reached down to where the remnants of come pooled on Axel's abdomen, rubbing his finger in before bringing it back to his mouth and sucking on the finger. "Brodo," he murmured, still sucking on the digit.

"You know I'm not going to remember all of those, right?" Axel said tiredly, shifting to accommodate Roxas and hold him close beside him.

"That is what practice is for," Roxas said cheekily, sprawling over him. "You should try to speak Italian when we are together," Roxas said after a few moments of contemplation."You will speak it better with practice."

Axel nodded. "I'm game."

"And you can help me with English, too," Roxas said contently.

Axel chuckled, breath ruffling Roxas' hair. "Want me to teach you bedroom English?"

"Why not?"

Axel rolled them over, pinning Roxas to the mattress by his wrists. "Well to be honest, 'I want to fuck you into the mattress' doesn't sound all that sexy in comparison," he said, nuzzling Roxas' neck and laying kisses on his abused collarbone.

"Of course!" Roxas said brightly, smirking. "Italian is a sexy language. All words sound sexy."

"I'll say," Axel murmured against the base of his neck. "You made a language lesson hot, that's what I call an achievement."

"We can do that with anything," Roxas answered, his voice muffled by Axel's hair. The redhead felt him release a deep breath, probably to get strands of Axel's hair out of his face.

"I noticed, Romeo."

Roxas' lip curled. "Romeo was a pidocchio, a cockroach. Idiot."

"Why is that?" Axel asked, snickering at Roxas' indignant expression.

Roxas paused and adjusted himself to stare at Axel. "Juliet," he said, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

Axel burst into laughter, burying his face against Roxas' neck. Meanwhile, the blond continued on a rant. "Why marry Juliet when there is Mercutio?"

"Mercutio was his cousin!" Axel said through hearty chuckles.

"And?" Roxas demanded.

"And nothing I guess," Axel muttered. "I don't have a comeback for that."

"Good," Roxas said, shifting beneath him and Axel rolled off to the side to let him breathe. The blond eyed him critically as they got comfortable again. "You should go shopping. I will take you."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"Via del Corso," Roxas answered with a shrug.

"And why?"

"So you will look troppo sexy when I take you out to dance!" the blond responded cheekily.

"Won't argue with that either."

Axel and Roxas agreed to meet a few days later to go shopping since Axel had a big test to study for on Wednesday. Once he was done with that Roxas would stop by to pick him up and they'd head over to the shopping district for the afternoon. With the test completed – and Axel was sure he'd done really well on it since he had a personal Italian tutor he hung around with all the time – Axel packed up his stuff and walked out to meet Roxas on the ever-present moped, and after a short trip they were parking and walking up Via del Corso.

When they walked into the first store on Roxas' list, Axel began to feel an overwhelming sense of dread. Both the employees were gorgeous to be sure, but they were decked out in fitted shirts and cardigans that were a little too feminine for Axel's taste, and skinny jeans. One was wearing the exact same scarf that Roxas sometimes wore, just in yellow. Axel's brain screamed 'Mayday, abandon mission!' as Roxas greeted each of them, exchanging kisses on the cheek. Then he heard Roxas say, quite clearly, _"I have a project for you."_

Axel knew his hips made it difficult to find jeans that fit him well – most that could accommodate them (i.e. women's pants) couldn't accommodate other things. So when he did find a pair they were usually bought in multiples to keep him clothed. The chances of finding the perfect pair in a tiny shop on Via del Corso? Highly unlikely. Axel was not optimistic.

Unfortunately he didn't have time to express his lack of optimism, since the two men – who Roxas introduced as GianCarlo and Lorenzo – were on him, measuring his hips and inseam and not-so-subtly touching his ass once in a while as they chatted excitedly about the challenge before them. All while Roxas giggled in the background and made himself look busy looking at their stock of denim. Once they were done the employees shoved Axel in a dressing room and commanded that he take off his pants. Being that it was three against one anyway Axel saw no other choice but to strip down to his underwear; as he did that Lorenzo pulled the curtain aside, several pairs of pants on his arm, and tilted his head to get a better glimpse of Axel in his underwear. The redhead took the pants and glared, and Lorenzo left him in peace.

He tried on pair after pair, but none fit him well-enough to earn Roxas' approval. Those that fit his hips well were baggy in the groin. Those that might've fit better didn't make it far up his leg. Others were skinny jeans that made him look like he had chicken legs and was wearing a ridiculous codpiece. Too short. Too ugly. And Axel was getting more and more frustrated with each pair. 'Why am I doing this again?'

As yet another pair was passed through the curtain Axel protested. "No more, I'm done," he said, pushing them back out. Then he heard Roxas' voice, and seconds later the blond slipped into the dressing room, holding a dark blue pair of jeans and looking sympathetic but determined.

Axel sighed. "Let's just go, they don't have anything for me," he said, uncaring that he stood there in a t-shirt and boxer briefs with Roxas less than a foot away in the tiny dressing room, surrounded by a mine field of Italian denim.

"Just this one," Roxas said, placing them in Axel's hands. "For me?" he asked coyly.

"Fine," Axel growled before pushing him out through the curtain.

"But I know what you look like naked!" Roxas protested, laughing – a comment that certainly got a reaction out of GianCarlo and Lorenzo.

"Beside the point!" Axel shouted back, pulling on the newest pair. He zipped up the fly and did the last button . . . and stood there for a moment in shock. "Huh."

"Yes?" Roxas said expectantly, shoving the curtain aside. The blond too stopped and stared for a few moments, his eyes glazing over just slightly. Then Roxas grinned devilishly – it wasn't rocket science figuring out what he was thinking.

Axel had to admit he agreed with that assessment; the jeans fell right and perfectly on his hips, hugging his lower body nicely without being too constricting. There were some unnecessary zippers, but he didn't mind them that much.

Roxas abruptly dragged him out by the belt loops to display the result for GianCarlo and Lorenzo; he began speaking animatedly with the other two, slowly moving in a circle around Axel's body as he explained why this was perfect and what made it even better. He pushed the hem of Axel's shirt up just slightly to demonstrate the proper fit around his hips but of course taking advantage of the possibility for a little molestation, his hand on Axel's ass or a finger trailing over the hair below his belly button. Axel narrowed his eyes and scowled at him for his teasing maneuvers that could be clearly seen by people roving Via del Corso given the clear glass doors and windows at the entrance.

"Oi, come on now," Axel said defensively after a particularly obvious and overt touch; he shied away and back towards the dressing room. "I'll get these," he informed Roxas. "No more, I'm done trying things on!" With that he pulled the curtains of the dressing room over sharply, hopefully forcing the other occupants to realize that he didn't need an audience to change.

"Perhaps -" GianCarlo or Lorenzo, Axel wasn't sure which one, attempted to begin suggesting something else before Axel cut him off with a resounding "No!" These jeans were already going to set him back sixty Euro.

Once the pants were purchased and bagged they continued to shop, with Roxas pointing out the stores with the best deals (or salespeople willing to make said deals) and little places to eat. Eventually he led him into a giant shoestore, complete with a wallfull of Converse. After ogling some of the more expensive and customized pairs Axel walked away with a pair of bright green Converse; eventually he found Roxas ogling his own pair of dream shoes and had to forcibly drag him out.

"Bisogno un caffé," Roxas said a little while later with a sigh. _I need an espresso._

"Dove voui andare?" _Where do you want to go?_

"Hm. Il bar di mio fratello," he said, nodding. "Vieni." _My brother's bar. Come on._

"Your brother owns a bar?" Axel asked incredulously.

"Si, si chiama Cloud," Roxas answered, leading them back to where he had parked the moped for the day. They drove down back alleys and dodged pedestrians until they came out on Via Governo del Vecchio – the same road as the school. There weren't that many bars on the street, though, so it would be curious to see which one his brother owned.

When they entered the tiny café Axel immediately recognized it as the one he, Larxene and Demyx sometimes stopped at before class – the one where he thought he recognized the bartender with the tribal wolf tattoo. This time however there was a young woman behind the counter; tall and voluptuous with long dark hair, she was busy making a customer his espresso when they arrived. Once he was taken care of she brushed her hands off on her apron and turned to Roxas and Axel, a wide smile breaking out over her face.

_Come!_ she said, gesturing to the open spots at the bar. _Who is this, Roxas?_

_Axel,_ Roxas answered. _His name is Axel, and he is a good friend._

_Only a good friend?_ she asked, her tone suddenly much saucier as she grinned widely for the blond.

_None of your business._

_You're so like your brother,_ the woman groused. _All serious, no fun at all._

_And yet you're still with him, Tifa._

_What Cloud lacks in a good sense of humor he makes up for in other areas, _she said lightly, and in response Roxas made a face.

_Did not need to know that._

_Quiet, you,_ Tifa growled, smacking Roxas' forearm with the wet towel she was using to clean the espresso machine. _So. What do you do, Axel?_

Uh oh. _I'm a student, _he answered. _At the Leonardo da Vinci school._

_You are American, correct?_

Axel nodded. _Yes, I'm here for the semester._

At that Tifa looked over at the blond, scrutinizing him carefully for several moments – as if asking him 'are you sure about this?' Then she shrugged and turned back to Axel with a wan smile. _Sounds good. What do you study?_

_Political Science. And I hope to have enough to minor in Italian._

Tifa nodded again, seeming to accept his answers as she moved around the bar into the customer area, and began circling Axel, examining him from all sides. It was then that a tall blond man – the one Axel thought he had recognized a few weeks before – pushed aside the dark curtain behind the bar and entered the café, stopping abruptly to stare dumbfoundedly at Tifa. The dark-haired woman smiled brightly at the older blond, and quickly introduced Axel to him, though she referred to the other man as Cloud.

'Cloud' muttered something vaguely indifferent at his introduction, and moved out of sight into the storage closet behind the bar.

Seeing an opening in their supervision, Roxas snuck over to the glass case where the _cornetti_ and other treats were kept, leaning over the glass to reach in and steal a nutella _cornetto. _With lightning speed Tifa whipped off her red apron and snapped it out, effectively whipping him on the ass with the end of it. Roxas yelped, recoiling from the glass case to cover his ass protectively and give Tifa a look of sheer, unadulterated death.

Her response, also in the form of a facial expression, was far more frightening and Axel really didn't want to be on the receiving end of that. _Do you want to get up at five every morning to make cornetti fresh? Will you come work for us?_ she was snapping at him, cornering Roxas near the case. Roxas kept muttering 'no' as she demanded answers, which kept Axel close to bursting into laughter for a bit.

Finally Tifa let up and stalked away from Roxas, leaving the blond almost cowering in the corner. Once the blond recovered he rejoined Axel at a table. _She's so scary,_ he whispered hollowly.

Axel chuckled. _Don't try to steal their cornetti then, I guess._

_I'm family! I'm entitled! _Roxas pouted, scowling off to the side.

_Are not,_ Cloud grunted, coming back into view and placing himself at the espresso maker, awaiting the arrival of customers. Roxas' pout deepened.

_Fine_, he said with a dramatic shrug, standing from his chair. Axel made to follow him, but was abruptly stopped by Tifa.

Tifa pulled him in for a one armed hug, looking up at him with a sickly sweet smile as she whispered in absolutely perfect English, "Hurt my little brother-in-law and I'll tear off your cock and choke you with it – then Cloud will cut up your body and feed it to our dogs." Then she patted his arm happily and pushed him out the door.

A few weeks into their tentative relationship Roxas decided that they were going to go to the Ice Bar for a night. Axel had heard of it, but he also heard it was ridiculously hard to get in to. When he mentioned this to Roxas, the blond just grinned. "Not if you know the bartender," he said cryptically.

So Axel put on his new Italian-made jeans and a nice shirt, for once getting dressed at his apartment for one reason or another. Over the course of several weeks Axel moved a generous portion of his clothes and belongings over into Roxas' apartment. He was staying over with greater frequency, and since it was a hassle to try and get back to his own apartment then race to the school in time for class, he just started keeping some of his more important things there. He really only saw his fellow American classmates during class or on scheduled trips he barely remembered to go on, as well as the few occasions he stayed at the apartment. Axel sipped wine and Peroni instead of absinthe, and was able to speak Italian more fluently as a result of his extensive lessons and 'practice sessions' with Roxas. Hell, when they had gone to see "The Watchmen" together he'd almost understood all the dubbed Italian.

It was here that Demyx caught him off-guard.

"Where are you headed looking so snazzy?" his friend asked on this particular day, a hint of jealousy in his tone.

Not even paying attention to the subtle – or not-so-subtle where Demyx was concerned anyway – nuances in his friend's voice, Axel answered distractedly as he adjusted his collar. "The Ice Bar," he said, turning to glance at Demyx and grin at him. "Roxas knows the bartender there tonight."

"Must be nice."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Axel gushed.

"You're a first-class dick, you know that?" Demyx hissed, and finally Axel paused and looked over at his friend.

"Huh?" Axel blanched.

"You've gone fucking native," Demyx said. "Seriously. You do know you were born in Chicago, right?"

"S-I mean, of course," Axel said, catching himself before he answered in Italian and affirmed Demyx's accusation. "I know where I'm from."

"Good, just checking. Because really - this is almost scary."

"Why?"

"Two words: red wine, Axel. Since when do you drink red wine?"

"Since we got here," Axel said defensively. No, wait, that was a lie. "Or, ok, since I started going out with Roxas."

"It's like you've become a different person!" Demyx said.

"Well I, unlike you, have found some Italian friends and am immersing myself in the culture," Axel snapped back. "That's what we're supposed to do."

"You mean a Roman fuck buddy," Demyx scoffed. "Some culture, man. We don't even see you anymore."

"So? Fuck off," Axel said, making sure he had everything he needed before trying to muscle his way towards the door.

"What the hell – "

"Axel," Zexion said seriously, coming out of nowhere and forcing Axel to stop walking with a palm in the middle of his chest. Other students in his apartment – including Larxene, who had been talking with Xaldin, peeked out of their rooms to see what was happening. "Listen to us. You are putting too much stock in Roxas and your relationship with him. You know how this is going to play out in the end. Don't do this to us."

Axel just glared down at him in response, not saying anything at all.

"Let him go," Larxene said icily from her leaning position by the first bedroom door. "Let him do what he wants, there's nothing you're going to say that'll stop him." With that Zexion released him, still staring impassively as Axel stalked away and out the door to catch the next bus.

After confirming the outing with Roxas one more time he headed out and took the bus to the particular stop the blond mentioned. Once he arrived he saw Roxas and his friends waiting for him. He approached them, and with Roxas and some of the blond's friends made their way up to the Ice Bar. With help from a man Axel recognized as Sandro from the Abbey Theatre Pub, Roxas got them into the bar through a back door. Axel couldn't help but stare all around him in awe as they walked in; the walls were all sheets and giant blocks of ice, and with the lighting the bar was filled with an ambient glow. Patrons were sitting at tables and in booths all made of ice, and most were drinking out of shot and wine glasses all made of ice.

And all Axel could say was, "This is so cool!" He felt like an idiot afterwards, but he just couldn't think of anything else to say. Roxas agreed heartily, and they proceeded to get well smashed.

The bar closed at two, and most of the patrons left. Roxas and his friends, however, stayed – happily welcomed by Sandro to drink after hours, which they took advantage of. By three-thirty Roxas was feeling very friendly again and was sitting in Axel's lap, with Axel's hands resting on his abdomen beneath the plastic protective coat he was wearing as they sat at their ice table with their friends.

_Friendly, but never drunk,_ Roxas was saying, leaning back against Axel's chest comfortably. _Drunk is not sexy._

_I was drunk when we first met, _Axel pointed out unnecessarily. _But you still think I'm sexy, right?_

_You were not sexy when I found you, _Roxas said, laughing at him and the memory. _You were gone._

_Absinthe, _Axel said in way of explanation.

Roxas continued to laugh. _My funny American, that's why I keep you around._

_Good, I'd rather be here anyway, _Axel said quietly, still slightly bitter about his fight with Demyx earlier. The things Demyx had said really hurt deeply, not that he was about to admit that as a self-assured young man – that wasn't what men did, they didn't feel that kind of hurt. Instead Axel rubbed his palm along Roxas' thigh slowly.

_What will you do about them?_ the blond asked, twisting slightly in his seat to look Axel in the face.

_Don't know, _Axel answered._ I have more fun with you though, _Axel said, leaning his chin on Roxas' shoulder while the younger man twisted back to look forward again. _They're a bunch of dicks._

_We're a lot more fun,_ Roxas affirmed.

Axel hummed in agreement, his body warmed by the presence of alcohol in his bloodstream as well as the warm body sitting in his lap and against his chest. He was vaguely aware of someone taking pictures and of someone doing something idiotic in the background, but he really didn't give a shit.

_You succeed where many others fail, _Roxas said suddenly. _It's like Enlightenment. _He'd also had about two and a half of Sandro's best Cuban Beach recipe – not to mention a few 'Blowjob' shots they'd gotten for free to make out against the ice wall earlier. Someone had even slipped a few Euros in his pocket; Axel thought it might've had something to do with their session getting so intense Roxas' legs had wrapped around his waist and his hand had slid into Roxas' jeans to cup his ass – and with the way their hips were grinding together it probably looked like they could have been fucking.

Axel thought it was appropriate that after that – since they'd been forced to stop for reasons not entirely too clear to him at the moment – Sandro allowed them exclusive use of the employee room to finish up. After Axel fucked the blond he gave Roxas a blowjob, even feeling kinky enough to let Roxas come a little on his face, if only for the blond to lick it up later.

_Huh?_ Axel said, the most accurate verbal representation of his present mental capacity. He felt heavy and comfortable and pliant, ready to fall asleep with the blond seated on top of him.

_The secret, _Roxas continued, his concentration and comprehension growing exponentially, _to truly getting the most of living in a foreign country._

_So what's the secret?_ Axel asked, shifting and readjusting his grip around the blond's waist.

_An American saying, _Roxas said, pursing his lips as he thought. _It says, 'when in Rome, do as the Romans?' That is the secret. _

_To do as the Romans? _Axel clarified, his brow furrowing slightly. At Roxas' nod he grinned; he was finally being recognized as a friend of Roxas' and an honorary Roman.

_You are not so much a foreigner now, _Roxas said proudly._ Welcome to our Rome._

A clue pertaining to track 7: girls who are boys, boys who are girls :DD


	7. Track 7: I Kissed a Girl

Title: Moped Romance [7/12]  
Pairing: Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

Warnings: Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene, drag kings and queens.  
Rating: R. [this chapter, NC-17]  
Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
A/N: Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring. ALSO: Larxene makes a very good point in this chapter. How do you _really_ think this will tale will end?  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Katy Perry.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** For his birthday, Roxas invites Axel to the party of a lifetime that he is sure to never forget.

**Notes:**

_Lazio & Arsenal _– two of Italy's soccer teams

_Supernatural _– a darker CW series about two demon-hunting brothers; I actually got into this series during my study abroad, thanks to my muse :D

_Risotto – _a usually creamy rice dish with multiple variations, made with Arborio rice.

_Caravaggio (Michelangelo) _– a Baroque painter known for his more realistic depictions of Biblical scenes as well as life in general. Google him!

Track 7: I Kissed a Girl

_This was never the way I planned_

_Not my intention_

_I got so brave, drink in hand_

_Lost my discretion_

_It's not what I'm used to_

_Just wanna try you on_

_I'm curious for you_

_Caught my attention_

_I kissed a girl and I liked it_

_The taste of her cherry chapstick_

_I kissed a girl just to try it_

_I hope my boyfriend don't mind it_

_It felt so wrong, it felt so right_

_Don't mean I'm in love tonight_

Lazio was winning.

And Axel was screaming like a maniac, which would have struck anyone who had known him previously as strange – he wasn't much of a soccer fan at all. So why did he care the game this much?

Axel blamed it on Roxas' influence – or, well, Hayner's too. An ardent and devoted fan of Arsenal, Hayner's obsession with the sport and obnoxious behavior just made Axel want to do anything to annoy him, which was totally not limited to soccer. So Axel suddenly became a fan of Lazio, much to Roxas' amusement. They all went to the match – and Axel had never experienced anything quite like it. The fans were beyond passionate – quite honestly they were insane, screaming themselves hoarse and flying banners in either red and black or blue and white. Axel was sure there were at least three brawls going on between fans, and the constant name-calling had gotten more and more violent as the match progressed – especially since Lazio seemed to have the referee on their side tonight.

Axel had even allowed his face to be painted sky-blue, while Hayner's was painted blood red with two gold stripes. All this, Axel thought giddily, for Roxas' birthday. The blond now-seventeen year old had been ecstatic about his prize, enough to make Axel paint himself up like a superfan and scream like a hooligan.

Could have been worse; Axel had only learned about the blond's birthday a day or two before it occurred, and had been completely and utterly lost as to what to get him. And he thought it a little strange that Roxas hadn't mentioned it at all despite Axel practically living in his apartment – but he figured it was probably just an oversight, something he might have missed. Luckily though, Pence and Olette had managed to score tickets to this particular match – five to be exact, having included Axel in their decision to get the tickets and having known that Roxas would be excited for him to come as well.

Through the din of screaming in the stands Axel could have sworn he heard a battle cry and the sharp crash of a breaking bottle from below, signaling another brawl. American football fans had _nothing _on these guys.

So Lazio won, and the fans screamed – and some wept with joy – and marched back to the parking lot, screaming the Lazio songs hoarsely at the top of their lungs, Axel doing the same through chuckles at the strangeness of the whole thing.

Instead of heading back to the apartment, the five friends opted rather to go to a pub for a few drinks to take care of the post-game high.

As they sat down with their Peroni's in hand, gushing animatedly over the players' brilliance – or in Hayner's case the mistakes of the referee and his belief that Lazio had paid him off beforehand – Axel's mind wandered over the last few weeks of the semester, even though he'd long since forgotten to call it that and just referred to it as 'the spring.' Over the weeks that they had been dating, Axel had learned a great deal about Roxas – little details about his personality that made Axel chuckle or wonder what the genesis of them might have been.

Some were quite intriguing; Roxas had revealed that yes, he did actually have a younger brother up north in his hometown whom Roxas insisted was a closet case pining after the gardener's teenage son. Of course Roxas said this in such a derisive tone Axel nearly flinched but didn't inquire further, which was probably a good thing because Roxas looked vaguely murderous when talking about him.

Despite his obviously non-church-approved lifestyle Roxas still attended Catholic mass on Sundays at a small but beautiful church in nearby Trastevere. He called it a habit from his childhood, but Axel never once saw him take off the cross he wore or miss a mass.

Others were just little facts he found entertaining. Roxas had a celebrity crush on Brad Pitt, evidenced by his multiple viewings of "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" after its release. Axel went to see it with him the first time, and refused the next two.

He couldn't stand dogs but loved cats, seen in his 'walking breaks' when they were passing through Largo Argentina – he never failed to stop at the cat sanctuary there and play with the cats that came up from the ruins to play.

Roxas liked to mix some sort of alcohol into whatever he was cooking, though Axel took that as something normal since the others in the apartment did the same thing. He spoke a bit of French, and his favorite dish was saltimbocca. He had a very good sense of humor, especially when it concerned 'Axelese' – his term for Axel's sometimes odd Italian word choices or mistakes; Axel had been very thankful for this when he accidentally inferred that Roxas was a high-priced whore, much to his chagrin and everyone else's amusement. Roxas was terrible at cards, and aside from the casual cigarette he usually only smoked when agitated and upset. He owned every season of Queer as Folk and The L Word, and shared several seasons of Friends with Olette. Under Axel's influence he became obsessed with Supernatural – when they weren't going out for the night or playing Kings or poker with the other flatmates, Axel and Roxas could usually be found in Roxas' bed with the lights turned out, to which a person walking in would have a fifty-fifty chance of either walking in on sex or Supernatural. In the case of the latter they were almost always laying side by side on their stomachs, faces illuminated by the screen of Axel's laptop as they stared, wide-eyed, eating popcorn methodically.

Axel also discovered that Roxas always been a bit precocious, wary of the world and of others' intensions despite his admittedly sheltered and privileged (and still somewhat mysterious) life prior to running away. But the blond was very not interested in giving any more details than that – if Axel tried to broach the subject Roxas would completely change it, ignoring his questions entirely. But on the subject of being precocious, he was not shy about enjoying sex or his kinks – or the things he was interested in and willing to try out. He expressed interest in videotaping themselves having sex – an idea Axel was half wary of, half salivating over.

Once they were done with their drinks they headed back to the apartment, Axel hanging on to Roxas' waist, occasionally knocking the front of his new helmet (a recent and awesome purchase) against the back of Roxas' since he still wasn't used to both of them wearing one. Everyone was back at the apartment within minutes of each other, and bid each other good night as they dragged their feet to their respective rooms. Axel started stripping down once he was in Roxas' room, while the blond locked the door behind them and started doing the same.

Flopping back on the blankets in his boxers and T-shirt, Axel watched as Roxas undressed, leaving a trail of garments in his wake. Roxas yawned and crawled onto the bed, settling himself in the cocoon of blankets beside the redhead.

_Did you have a good time?_ Axel asked, adjusting his pillow.

Roxas nodded. _It was so much fun. You still have blue on your face, _he commented, giggling.

_Really? Where? _Axel asked with a groan.

_Here, _Roxas grinned, poking Axel on the nose then the cheek.

Axel rubbed at his face vigorously to get rid of the paint. _Thought I got it all. So – what would you like for your birthday from me?_ he asked. _I wasn't sure what to get you, especially since I found out on such short notice._

_Hmm, _Roxas murmured, making a show of thinking as he tapped his chin contemplatively and gazed at the ceiling. _Well, there is something I'd like to go to soon. Maybe you could come with me._

_You don't want an actual gift or anything?_ Axel clarified. _I can get you whatever you want, within reason. _

_This will be an awesome gift, _Roxas reassured him. _Will you go?_

_What is it?_

At that Roxas smiled evilly. _A drag ball, _he said, wiggling his eyebrows in a clear challenge to the redhead. _Will you go?_

_A drag ball? _Axel repeated. _As in, you want me to put on a skirt and makeup and dress like a girl?_

_I'll be doing it too, _Roxas chuckled. _And Olette too, we share clothing for this sort of thing._

_Oh, Olette's going too?_

_As a boy, yes._

_Where is it? _Axel sighed, wondering only briefly why this didn't seem like a bigger deal to him.

_Coming Out, _Roxas answered excitedly. _So you will go? Please?_

_I don't have anything to wear, _Axel said helplessly. _What do you want me to wear?_

_There are other girls studying here with you, right?_

_Well, yeah, but . . . _The only girl who was remotely close to his size was Larxene. And that was a disaster waiting to happen. _It's really probably not a good idea for me to ask her._

Furthermore, he was actually thinking through how he'd get a DRESS. His brain waved a white flag, mentioned something about him being whipped, and took a nap.

_For me, though? For my birthday? _Roxas pleaded, turning on the charm with his big blue eyes and his hands rubbing up underneath his shirt over his abdomen to tease a nipple.

_Yeah, sure, ok, _Axel conceded, shifting under his teasing fingers.

But where the FUCK was he going to get a dress?

A few days after Roxas popped the question of the drag ball on him, Axel was sitting in his morning art history class, his mind wandering. He vaguely picked up information about a class trip to Florence coming up in a few weeks, and the reminder to the kids in the video workshops to get some project in, but otherwise Axel was far away. He didn't even consider the trip to Florence, he was so caught up in his own thought process. When the teacher running the class decided to do a slide show rather than roam about Rome, Axel was ecstatic; he needed the time to think about what he was going to do about the drag ball situation.

He still needed a dress, and shoes. Axel did not want to go to this drag ball looking like a fool, halfway between guy and girl, not when he knew Roxas would be making every effort.

The teacher was talking about Caravaggio or some other painter when Axel's eyes wandered around the room in his thoughts and came upon Demyx, who was sitting in a far corner away from Axel and determinedly not looking at him. During classes like these Demyx would have always been at Axel's elbow, passing notes and whispering furtively throughout the lecture. Then Axel suddenly remembered: he had tickets to Amsterdam with Demyx, Zexion, and a couple of the other guys – and their planned departure date was coming up soon. He'd already bought the tickets, and there was no way he was backing out of a trip to Amsterdam, fight with Demyx and the others or not. Damn it all, he'd have to talk with them and smooth this all out at some point. March thirteenth was right around the corner.

When class was over and everyone started gathering up their things Axel decided to make the first move. He followed the rest of his classmates out of the building until he finally caught up with Demyx and Zexion. "Hey. Guys," he said, shifting his backpack on his shoulder.

Zexion glanced back over his shoulder, raising a disdainful eyebrow. "What do you want?"

"Look guys, I just wanted to apologize. I'm sorry for how I was a while ago."

"Suddenly we're worthy of your attention?" Demyx said, the hurt evident in his voice. "Screw you."

"Oh come on," Axel sighed. He looked imploringly at Demyx. "You've been my best friend and my roommate since freshman year. I'm sorry I acted like a dick. I really am. Think you can forgive me?"

Demyx turned around and frowned deeply at him. "Why the sudden change? You've barely had anything to say to us since you went to that Ice Bar thing."

Axel dropped his hands. "You guys are my friends, and I don't want to be going through the rest of the months here ignoring you guys or getting into bitch fights. I'm sorry for the way I acted."

Demyx looked down; his nose twitched, along with the corner of his mouth as he considered Axel's apology. Suddenly he was reminded that it was something they had first bonded over, their mutual twitchiness and odd quirks when Axel was moving his stuff into their dorm while Demyx sat perched on one of the other twin beds.

"And, you know, us fighting isn't really conducive to a fun trip to Amsterdam," Axel added with a tight smile. "If you guys are still planning on going, anyway."

Zexion adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. "We had to change the date, move it back a week to March 20th. That still good with you?"

Axel nodded, realizing belatedly that the drag ball was supposed to be the weekend of their original plans for Amsterdam. Dodged a bullet there, Axel whistled to himself. The weekend after the drag ball though, that was perfect. "Sounds good, I can change my tickets, shouldn't be that hard."

"Good. We'll, ah, discuss plans and all that a bit later, once we know a bit more. Are you planning on stopping by the apartment sometime soon?" Zexion asked.

"Yeah, I'll stop by and we'll figure everything out," Axel grinned, feeling a little more at ease with his friends now that they weren't arguing. He was still waiting for forgiveness from Demyx though.

"And you might want to tread carefully around Larxene," Zexion warned. "You're kind of on the shit list," he said sagely.

"Kind of figured that," Axel said, scratching the back of his head. "But I think I need to ask her a favor either way so I'll see where that takes me."

Both Zexion and Demyx shrugged, clearly saying _Your funeral_ in their body language.

It couldn't be that bad . . . could it?

On second thought, maybe he ought to find some other source for his dress.

In the end, Axel couldn't think of any backup dress suppliers among his friends in the study abroad group. There was only one place he could think of to get a dress, and it didn't look pretty. He found Larxene's apartment building, which was a few blocks from the Vatican, and rang the buzzer for their apartment. A somewhat static laden voice answered through the speaker a few moments later.

"Yeah, who is it?"

"Xion, its Axel. Is Larxene there?"

"Uh, yep. She's here."

"Think you could let me in? I need to ask her something."

"For your own safety, I think I should say no."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "She really that pissed?"

"She says you're an imbecile, and that they should just leave you here in Italy now that you're a certified Roman homo."

"Straight from the horse's mouth, just now?"

"No, that's only a sampler plate from the last few weeks."

"Ah. Well, let me in anyway. I need to ask her for a favor."

"Danger, Axel Sinclaire, danger."

"Just let me in," Axel said wearily. "Fucking space cadet," he muttered as the lock on the door clicked to unlock, and he pushed the door open. He took the single flight of stone stairs up to Xion and Larxene's shared apartment, knocking on the door once he got there.

The door opened just a crack, and half of Xion's pale face appeared, a bright blue eye peering at him. "There's still time to turn back," she warned. "With your balls intact."

"I've managed to be friends with her for three years and I've still got them, I think it'll be fine," Axel said, pushing the heavy door open.

Xion shrugged and wandered back to her room, closing the door behind her. "Your funeral," she said, the words muffled by the wall between them.

Axel rolled his eyes and let the door close on its own, then looked warily at the ajar door he knew was Larxene's. Suddenly he realized that this probably was not a very good idea.

Axel steeled himself for the inevitable; he was probably going to die. He pushed her door open just a little more and cleared his throat. Larxene was sitting up in bed, leaning back against the wall, and paying no attention to him as she read her book – Machiavelli's _The Prince. _Only Larxene . . .

"Larxene," Axel prompted, his voice rising in fear.

"Hm." She didn't look up.

"Larxene," Axel said again, deepening his voice, hoping to sound more authoritative. "I, uh . . . I need to borrow a dress."

Larxene looked up slowly and glared. "How did you even get in here?" she asked acidly.

Axel twiddled his fingers. "Xion let me in."

"Of course," Larxene continued in that harshly acidic tone of voice. "That brat would. Now why are you bothering me again?"

"I need to borrow a dress," Axel tried again.

Larxene turned her back on him. "Don't have any."

Axel looked over to her closet, where the door was open and clearly revealing a dress of approximately the right size. "What about tha-"

"No," Larxene cut him off.

"Can I please borrow it?"

"How many times am I going to say it? No! Furthermore, what the fuck do you need my fucking dress for?"

Axel tapped his fingers together. "I'm taking Roxas to a drag ball," he muttered.

"Oh!" Larxene barked, amusement evident in her voice. "Oh, what's that? I couldn't hear you!"

"Drag ball," Axel repeated tersely. "I'm taking Roxas to a drag ball. Get over it, bitch."

"That's not the kind of language that's going to get you my dress, dickhead. Use your big boy words."

"I'm sorry," Axel finally bit out, having to talk over her to even get the words out. "I already apologized to Demyx and Zexion, we're cool now. Can you at least try to accept my apology?"

"I can certainly try, but I can also guarantee it won't be accepted," Larxene replied tartly. "I can hold a grudge until the dinosaurs come back."

"You're really going to hold a grudge against me like this, when I'm trying to be the better guy?"

"Go home, Axel."

"No. Can I please try on the dress?"

Larxene paused and glared at him shrewdly for several moments. Then she put her book back up to cover her face and said easily, "Sure, go right ahead."

"Uh, really?"

"Uh, yeah," she answered mockingly. "Congratulations, you get a gold star! Go put the fucking dress on so I can shut you up, fire crotch."

"Ice queen," Axel retorted, taking the dress out of the closet.

"Cocksucker."

"And proud of it, cuntwaffle."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Stop stalling, dickface – get a move on."

Axel grumbled something in response, but took the dress into the bathroom anyway. He knew Larxene was fucking with him, but he wasn't going to take the dress unless he knew it would fit – if that meant playing dress-up for her, whatever. The dress was a short black scoop neck, a little tight on his hips and chest since Larxene was tinier than him. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable Axel walked back into Larxene's room for her more likely disapproval.

Sure enough, when Axel entered the room she immediately burst into laughter.

"What?" Axel asked testily.

"You look like a man in a dress. It's not that attractive. There's a little spa down the street, you should get yourself waxed."

"Fuck no," Axel snorted. "I'm not that desperate."

Larxene shrugged. "Suit yourself. You're not that hairy, but the legs definitely kill it for me right now."

"Ok then, forget about the legs. The dress fits; I mean, it's a little small, but it works. Would you let me borrow it for a night?"

"I should make you my personal sex slave in return," Larxene said bitterly, "with the way you were treating all of us. But this time I'll be merciful."

Axel flinched just a little. "Why are you being merciful?" he asked warily.

Larxene's expression softened by two degrees, startling Axel; something about it felt really, really fucking wrong. "Because you must really like this kid," Larxene said. "You're willing to forego all of your manly pride and shave your legs and put on a dress, just to take him to a drag ball. He must really be something, huh?"

Axel didn't answer at first, just looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, he is."

"Alright then," Larxene said, her voice clipped again. "Just don't go fucking around with us like that again, or I really will maim you. You know how your little fling is going to end-"

"No, we really don't," Axel interrupted, chuckling.

"Yes, you do," she said sternly. "Don't fuck with me, Axel. And furthermore, don't kid yourself, ok?"

"Sure," Axel said, but didn't absorb the advice. He'd figure out what they were going to do on his own time.

"I know you're not really listening, but whatever. Do what you want, I'm not going to stop you. All I'm going to do is stand on the sidelines and tell you you're being a fucktard."

"That's what you do anyway," Axel allowed himself a chuckle.

"Someone's got to keep you in line. Now, I'll let you borrow this dress, on two conditions."

_Mayday. Danger! _"What would those be?"

"First of all, you get Marluxia to fix you up. I paid good money for that dress, I'm not going to have you waltzing about Rome looking like a transvestite who's just not even really trying. And second, you become my personal homework servant when we take International Relations II in the fall."

Axel groaned. "You fucking bitch . . ."

"Fine, that filler class or whatever. Do my homework for that class and we're clean."

"Didn't you sign up for something in religious studies?"

"Yup," she said, already sitting back with her nose in the book. "Hence my ultimatum."

"Fine. Deal. I agree," Axel said tersely. "And Marluxia?"

"Um, yeah," Larxene answered, as if Axel was a two year old who needed reminding of something he should have known. "Marly's gayer than ten of you, and he dabbles in crossdressing. You think he can't do your hair or makeup, honey?"

"Er, I'm sure he can."

"You don't trust him with your hair, do you."

"He uses a curling iron on his," Axel said, allowing his discomfort to come through.

"And if he knows that's not your style, he probably won't use it on you," Larxene chuckled. "It can't hurt, and I'm sure he's not going to say no."

"He wouldn't pass up making someone else look pretty," Axel snorted. "He'll love the challenge of me."

"I'm sure you'll make a fine woman. Other than, you know, you're all hips and no tits."

"I'm going now."

"Don't spontaneously grow a vagina, you can't get rid of those!"

Axel cringed and escaped out her door before it got any worse. As he went back towards the front door of the apartment, Xion came out of her room; she looked mildly surprised that he not only held a dress in his hands, but was also still whole.

"Still got your balls?" she asked innocently.

"Yep," Axel said shortly, wishing she'd leave him alone.

"Might want to put that in your bag," she said, indicating the black dress slung over his arm. "A man with a dress on the main streets is an invitation for stupid comments."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks," he said, putting the dress in his backpack; then they both paused in the slightly awkward silence that ensued. Axel looked towards the door. "Well, I'm going to go now."

Xion gave him a little wave. "Enjoy your time as a woman!" she called, just as he was opening the door.

Axel scowled at her. Xion was unfazed by his murderous gaze; she shrugged and went back into her room.

"Fucking space cadet," he grumbled, pulling the door closed behind him.

Axel helped Roxas and Hayner made dinner that night, which turned out to be an amazingly delicious spread of artichokes cooked with garlic, risotto, and some bread Roxas had picked up on his way home. Though he'd never had artichokes cooked that way before, he thought they were surprisingly tasty. While they were all sitting at the table Axel decided to ask about the drag ball plans, since it was coming up at the end of the week.

_You have your dress? _Roxas asked, grinning excitedly.

Axel nodded. _Got one earlier from a friend._ Hayner was clearly and pointedly ignoring this conversation.

_I think I might go with you guys, _Pence said, surprising Axel. _Sounds like a fun time – I'm not dressing up though, _he amended, much to Roxas' disappointment. _My brother's going out of town for a bit, so I've got the car if anyone needs a ride . . . _

_I need to get a new back tire for my moped, _Olette said, plucking a piece of bread from the plate. _So I think I'll ride with you._

_Axel and I will take my moped, _Roxas piped in. _We can meet here before we head out. _

_Sounds like a plan to me, _Axel nodded. He'd talk with Marluxia about doing his hair that afternoon, then head over to Roxas apartment. Then he realized, if he got ready at his school apartment he'd have to take a taxi or a bus over to Roxas' – which he was more than willing to do, just not in drag. _Er, I'm going to be getting ready at my apartment that day, and I'm not sure I want to take the bus over here. Would you mind picking me up, Pence?_

Roxas' friend considered this. _Sure, that's fine. Roxas can tell me where your apartment is, and I'll give you my cell phone number. I can send you a message when I get there._

_Ok, sounds good, _Axel agreed, feeling a little better about the prospect of transportation.

Once the food was gone they stayed at the table to chat for a little bit, clearing plates up only to play cards for a bit before people started calling it a night. When he and Roxas started heading for the blond's room, Axel suddenly remembered he should probably keep Roxas abreast with his plans.

_I'm going to Amsterdam next week, _he said, stripping off his t-shirt and stretching, _with some of my friends from school._

_Ahh, Amsterdam would be fun, _Roxas said as he did the same. _I have to go there some time. When are you going?_

_We're leaving next Friday morning. Was going to be this weekend, but luckily that changed, _he chuckled, climbing on to the mattress and collapsing onto his stomach, face in their shared pillow.

Axel felt the mattresss dip as Roxas crawled in beside him, rubbing their shoulders together and laying his head on the pillow as well. _Yes, very good. Where did you end up getting your dress?_

_Oh, a friend of mine. Larxene. She made me fight her for it._

Suddenly Roxas rolled Axel over onto his back and straddled his hips, leaning down and giving Axel a saucy grin. _So. Going to show me your dress? I want to see it._

_Nope, _Axel said with a similar grin. _You're just going to have to wait and see._

_Tease, _Roxas chuckled. _I want to see what it looks like._

_Too bad, _Axel shrugged. _Just wait and be surprised._

_I know you'll look hot, _Roxas whispered, his hand moving slowly up Axel's sternum.

_Hard for me not to. _In truth though, Axel was having a hard time thinking about Roxas as a girl. It just couldn't click at all.

_I know,_ Roxas answered, slowly grinding down against Axel's hips and now-interested groin.

_You'll look pretty hot yourself, _Axel ventured, groaning as heat and desire pooled in his abdomen.

With that Roxas leaned down and kissed him deeply, possessively, only breaking it to whisper _I know._

After finally getting the chance to talk with Marluxia during the week, Axel made plans to stop by the sophomore's apartment so he could help him get ready for the drag ball. Marluxia was one of four guys who had their own apartment on Via Aurelia, since it was almost impossible to find a single place to house twelve guys – though some of them spent enough time at Axel's apartment that they could've been living there. Axel dropped by a little pizza place on the way and got himself a sandwich, with prosciutto, mozzarella, and some tomatoes to eat while Marluxia worked.

When he got to Marluxia's apartment though, after he was buzzed in and had mounted the three flights of steps to his door, he was very surprised to see half the residents of his own apartment mingling in the kitchen; Demyx, Zexion, Xaldin, Lexaeus, and a few others all gave him quizzical looks as he rounded the corner.

Axel realized that the fact that he was actually _there_, when he'd barely spent any time what so ever in the school apartment since fighting with Demyx, and at the backpack he had, which carried almost all of the supplies he'd need for the night including Larxene's dress and some other things, probably looked really weird and a little off, especially since he wasn't really friendly with anyone in Marluxia's apartment.

"Hey," Demyx said, a little more guarded than he usually was with him. "What are you doing here?"

Axel shrugged. "I needed a favor from one of the guys, he's just helping me out."

"Oh – ok. We were just heading out to dinner, you want to come?"

Why the fuck was this so awkward? "Nah, no thanks man. I'll catch up with you guys some other time."

"No worries," Demyx said, his easy and thoughtless grin returning gradually as the other guys started picking up to leave the apartment. "See you later; Marly, you coming?"

From behind the closed middle door the familiar voice of Marluxia came filtering through. "No thanks guys, I've got my work cut out for me." The tall sophomore with feathered pink hair opened the door to poke his head out; then he stage-whispered, "It's not every day a man asks for you to make him into a woman."

The reactions were instantaneous and hilarious; Zexion's visible eye bulged and his eyebrow twitched as he looked over at Axel, Demyx' jaw dropped comically, and Xigbar was leaning over, laughing hard.

Marluxia shooed them out, then barked orders for Axel to go shower – and to shave anything he didn't want showing off.

As Axel emerged from the shower with wet hair and a towel around his waist ten minutes later Marluxia ambushed him, brandishing a hair dryer and a flat iron. He barely had time to hiss "Jeeze, Marly," before the pink-haired sophomore stopped him.

"Step into my office," Marluxia said with an evil grin, dragging Axel over to his own desk.

Axel stared at the tools the pink-haired man was lining up. "How did you fit all that stuff in your bags?"

"That's my little secret," Marluxia answered, lathering his hands with some sort of lotion before combing his fingers through his hair. In the meantime, Axel simply sat in the chair and devoured his Panini, allowing the pink-haired man to abuse his precious hair. He added several other products then started brushing and blow-drying; about ten minutes later he examined a full lineup of styling tools, Axel bristled when his hand almost reached for the curling iron.

"Jesus Christ," Axel hissed as the sophomore's hand bypassed the offending implement.

"I am your savior," Marluxia murmured mostly to himself in response, finally choosing the flat iron. Axel gave a small grunt at his revelation; then Marluxia began attacking Axel's hair with the flat iron, straightening out the long red strands. "Tell me you shaved."

"Yeah," Axel answered, disgruntled.

"Everywhere?"

Axel glowered. "Legs, armpits, face, obviously."

Marluxia turned to look at Axel from the front; admiring him obviously. "Oh, I do love me a smooth-chested man," he chuckled.

"I will kill you. And if you tell Xigbar or anyone else about this, I will torture you before murdering you."

"Hm, touchy."

"Use that curling iron on me and you'll really see how 'touchy' I can get," Axel grumbled.

By the time Marluxia was done with his hair and makeup, Axel realized he really could almost pass for a girl. Mar had done something different to his hair; instead of the spikes he usually had it in it fell flat over his shoulders in layers, framing his angular face. He could thread his fingers through it, all the silky-smooth strands sliding though his fingers as he went.

As far as the makeup went, Axel had been afraid that Marly would lay it on thick, and it would be like wearing a clay mask. Instead, it was only really heavy around his eyes, playing up the already-present cheek tattoos. There was foundation to cover up his skin tone and the tiniest bit of blush, and his eyes were lined with black charcoal and purple liner. Topped off with sticky, glistening gloss on his lips, Axel decided the whole look was just plain weird. He hoped Roxas liked it.

"Voila," Marluxia said dramatically, giving Axel's hair one final adjustment or two. "A masterpiece."

"It'll take some getting used to," Axel conceded. "But it looks good."

"Of course it looks good," Marluxia said proudly. "Now go put the dress on, I want to see the whole look."

"Er, Larxene said to ask you about shoes. Her feet are tiny, but we might be closer to the same size."

"Yeah, I think I've got a pair of sturdy heels in this apartment somewhere. Go change into the dress, I'll look for them."

Axel turned and went back into the bathroom to change into Larxene's dress, which was hanging up on the bathroom wall. He pulled out Olette's 'drag goodies' from the bag she'd given him before coming back here today; she'd managed to find a bra to fit around his ribcage, and had also left him with jelly-like inserts for the bust, to make it look like he had both breasts and cleavage. Obviously they didn't fuck around with their crossdressing. Roxas had also contributed 'tucking tools,' basically two pairs of underwear that would help keep his cock and balls from being too visible beneath the skirt. He had to be careful if he got hard though, because then he'd get very uncomfortable, very fast.

He clasped the bra behind his back and stuffed the inserts into the swell of the bra cup; Axel adjusted the undergarment and looked at himself in the mirror. It looked real enough so far. Then he put the snug underwear on and tucked himself between his legs, frowning as he adjusted to the sensation of the bra and the tucking simultaneously. "Jeez," he muttered to himself as he pulled Larxene's dress from the hangar. "Don't know how girls do this, much less drag queens."

"It's an art, honey," Marluxia said breezily, making Axel almost jump out of his skin; he didn't think the walls were that thin. He rolled his eyes and continued working to get the dress up and zipped. Once he was done he unlocked the bathroom door and walked out.

Marluxia wasn't in the room at that moment, so Axel kind of glanced around awkwardly looking for the pink-haired man. Then Marluxia reappeared, carrying what looked like a pair of nice, relatively low-heeled boots. "So you're pretty tall as it is," the sophomore was saying, "and you're not that used to walking in heels, so you'd be a stumbling giant if I gave you anything higher- oh my sweet baby Jesus," Marluxia finished loudly, blinking rapidly. "Very nice," he said appreciatively. "Even I'd say you'd pass for a girl."

"Uh, thanks."

Marluxia recovered fairly quickly. "Here," he said, handing Axel the boots. "Put those on, let's see how they look."

Axel plopped down on one of the beds and slipped his feet into the boots, zipping them up to where they ended mid-calf. They tapered off at the toe a little too much for him, but he was only doing this for one night, that wouldn't hurt too much. The heel was really only about an inch and a half, just enough so that he wouldn't completely lose his balance and fall over on the cobblestones.

Axel stood, only slightly wobbly as he got used to walking in women's boots, and went to examine himself in the mirror, assessing the new additions critically. So far he'd been fitted, partially waxed, shaved, primped, painted, tucked and fastened, all with the goal of basically turning himself into a woman – and for all intents and purposes it appeared to have succeeded. The dress looked really good; it was made out of a slightly stretchy cotton, designed to stretch with a body's curves, but still loose enough to keep his maleness hidden. There was nothing he could do about the broad mass of his shoulders or the flatness of his pectorals up to the point where the bra gave him a little something extra. The boots, calf-length and faux leather, gave him a little bit of added height but mostly added to the whole outfit being pretty sexy. Axel decided he made a pretty good-looking girl, which surprised him to no end.

Furthermore, his mind halfheartedly chimed in, your masculinity is pretty much dead. Axel figured, somewhere in the back of his mind, that some part of him should be having a fit right now given he was dressed in drag; being the guy who never pictured himself doing the whole drag queen thing, Axel found himself surprisingly ok with all of this. It was for Roxas, anyways.

Across the room, Axel heard his cell phone beep. "That's Pence; he's outside to pick me up," Axel called to Marluxia. "How do I look?" he asked, looking for one last once-over.

"You look marvelously sexy," Marluxia gushed. "Take pictures, I want to see this!"

"Yeah, yeah," Axel agreed, heading for the door. "Thanks again, man."

"You owe me!" Then Axel closed the door and headed down to the front door of the apartment building, where Pence – in his brother's borrowed SmartCar – was waiting.

The stairs were looking to be a bit daunting in heels, even modest ones, so Axel opted for the old, rickety elevator.

Pence's ride was indeed one of the iconic little SmartCars, cramped and black with bright yellow accents. The teen himself did a complete double-take when Axel approached the car and gave him a cheery salute, sputtering slightly.

_You look good, _he finally managed, but didn't say much else for the rest of the drive.

Axel got out of Pence's SmartCar, wobbling slightly in his heeled boots. He couldn't help but feel naked, with almost no body hair and no pants covering his legs or supporting him.

And tucking, while necessary for this situation, was terribly uncomfortable; Axel didn't ever want to do it again, ever. He didn't even feel hot at all anymore after that car ride, just angular and manly . . . but in a form-fitting dress.

Once Pence let them in, Axel checked (read: hobbled) around looking for Roxas and Olette, until Olette's door opened and she came breezing out, looking for all the world like a teenage boy – from her somehow shortened hair to the pinstripe vest and bright orange Converse. She too did a double-take.

_Look at you! _she gushed. _This is fantastic! Look, you have breasts now! _she said excitedly, rushing over and cupping his 'breasts.'

_Awkward, _Pence said quietly, in a sing-song quality voice. Olette shushed him.

_Roxas is still getting ready, _she informed him. _He's still making himself pretty. Though that could take all day!_ she said, shouting the last few words for Roxas' benefit.

_Quiet, you! _Roxas responded through his bedroom door mere moments later. _I'm almost done!_

Olette sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes.

_How'd you get your hair short like that? _Axel asked. _It's usually pretty long._

_Nothing special, _Olette said, turning around so her back was to Axel and pushing some of her hair up. The longer layers of her hair had been braided against the back of her head, and were covered by another layer to conceal them. _Pretty cool though, huh?_

_I'd say so, _Axel chuckled. _That's Roxas' vest, isn't it._

_Like I said, we share clothes for this sort of thing. _

_So are we really only waiting on Roxas?_

Olette nodded. _He's taking his time. Come on Roxas, let's go! _she turned and shouted.

_I'm coming, I'm coming! _Axel leaned around Olette as he heard the door click open.

Holy fuck.

Axel almost didn't recognize Roxas; the blond was decked out in a deep blue, low-cut shirt (and he had to be wearing some sort of bra or something, because Axel swore that was natural cleavage peaking out from the edges of the V-neck), a black miniskirt, and (holy shit) four inch black patent heels. His hair was different too, all the product had been stripped; bangs hung across his forehead and artfully messy around his face. Roxas' eyes were lined in black charcoal, and his lips were plump and glistening.

Something in Axel's chest performed a flying leap as he blinked, the picture Roxas made in his outfit making him feel strangely awkward: he hadn't been attracted to a girl in a long time, long before he decided he preferred men. Then his stomach did yet another flip-flop as Roxas broke into a wide, elated grin at the sight of him. He walked forward, his hips swaying to the click of his heels.

"Ciao bella," Roxas purred teasingly. _You look gorgeous, _he continued, whispering in Axel's ear as he wrapped his arms over his shoulders.

_So do you, _Axel answered. _You look amazing. _Axel pulled away, looking down at Roxas' chest. _So, where'd you get these? _he asked, cupping the blond's small 'breasts' with a grin.

Roxas smirked. _Olette's bra._

"He's got stuffing," Olette piped in, "just to give him a bit more cleavage."

_Is she giving away secrets? _Roxas demanded. _Stop giving away secrets! Sh!_

Olette giggled uncontrollably, bending over and holding her stomach as she laughed. _It's ok, it's not like Axel isn't stuffed too._

At this Roxas conceded that at least that was true. _Ready to go?_ He asked, a wide grin on his lips.

Axel nodded and wrapped an arm around Roxas' shoulder as they all walked out. They split up in the courtyard, Roxas and Axel taking the moped while Pence and Olette headed directly for the main door where Pence's car was parked. Careful not to mess up his hair, Axel put on the helmet hanging from the handlebars; Roxas was already setting himself astride the moped and adjusting his skirt. Axel climbed on the moped behind him, and they set off for Coming Out.

The ball had already started by the time they arrived, scores of people – in drag and not – were already milling about outside Coming Out. After they'd parked the moped they headed in towards the bar. The thumping bass was audible halfway down the street, a mix of an Italian singer Axel hadn't heard before. Roxas put an arm around Axel's waist, his hand resting on his hip as they walked. Even on the cobblestones, Axel had finally started feeling more comfortable in the heeled boots.

Roxas steered them through the crowd, waving to a few people, and into Coming Out. Once the door opened the music got exponentially louder, the sounds of people yelling and ordering food and drinks melding and creating a musical din. The bar was more crowded than usual, with nearly every occupant dressed in colorful drag. Not even the servers could move in the throng of people, though Axel decided to push his way through those gathered near the bar to order drinks while Roxas went to join Olette and Pence who were mingling in the crowd. With a Singapore Sling in one hand and Roxas' Cuban Beach in the other, Axel fought his way through towards the back of the bar.

As it turned out, one of the causes of the crowding was that some of the back area of Coming Out had been turned into a stage – which explained why their friend and drag queen in charge, Margherita, was the only person standing up there – that her height was not due to extreme footwear, but the stage itself. She was saying something, yelling at some people closer to the front, but it was too difficult to hear. Nevertheless, Axel felt contented with the drink in his hand and to hang out with their friends, chatting amongst themselves. The gin in the Singapore Sling was deceptive, he could feel it burn in the back of his throat, but at the same time it was delicious and made him feel vaguely giddy – even to the point where he didn't really seem fazed by the fingers pinching his butt every once in a while; it was slightly distracting, but not important.

That is, until that hand became the hard line of an erection pressing against his ass, ignoring the clear warning sign of Roxas arm around his waist, and a mouth close to his ear whispering "ciao, bella." Axel's expression turned to one of utmost disgust; who the fuck did this fucker think he was?

It was Roxas though, who reacted first; he shouted a curse over the din and knocked the man away, snarling at him. The man stumbled back into a couple other party-goers, causing them to spill some of their drinks; one woman in that party looked over and saw Roxas glaring mutinously at him, then immediately got in the man's face and started pushing him out towards the door.

Pence was laughing at the man's protestations and the woman's clear threats, followed by boos and catcalls from other people in the bar as he was escorted out. Axel began laughing too and eventually Roxas joined in, but he was still clearly fuming at the man's actions. One of the drag kings, shirt now partially drenched with alcohol, came over and told them that the man had been causing trouble for most of the night, so it was good their 'enforcer' found him.

_He's going to get the shit kicked out of him, no need to worry._

Roxas grumbled something about wanting to do the beating himself, and their informer laughed.

_Possessive, huh?_

_You might say that, _Roxas answered with a sly grin, his arm tightening around Axel.

Two drinks in the DJ had turned the music down slightly and Margherita had taken up a microphone; she was speaking animatedly, and Axel counted himself well-adjusted to the Italian language that he could figure out what she was saying.

_. . . Now we've got some fine-looking kings and queens here tonight! And if you know what I mean, it's a little hot in here – in more ways than one! _Margherita feigned a swoon and fanned herself as the rest of the occupants hollered their agreement._ I'm thinking we need to get some of you up here to strut your stuff, what do you think? _

There was a chorus of cheers in response, including Olette whistling from Axel's other side.

_Well you better put your best walk on – DJ, turn the music up; let's get these kings and queens strutting!_

The volume immediately turned up a notch, and Margherita started calling people out from the audience to come up on stage. Several drag kings and queens had gone up, with Margherita making sly comments to many, when Olette made her way up.

Of course Margherita and Olette were already pretty good friends, so when Olette posed, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest and a hip cocked out, then started doing a hip hop dance Margherita got all the audience to cheer and clap along with her.

_And if Olette is here, so is Roxas – get your ass up here!_

Roxas put his drink down on a table and made his way up to the stage, with Axel leering as he started up; hips already swaying as he moved across the stage to several wolf-whistles – Axel's included. Then Roxas mouthed something to Margherita, and they had a brief exchange in which the drag queen in charge looked positively dumbfounded.

_He is? Well then where is he? Axel! Get up here, what are you thinking leaving this – _she gestured to Roxas – _up here all alone?_

Axel stood there stunned for a moment before he realized she was talking to him. Oh crap. At Pence's proffered hand he gave him his drink and headed up towards the stage, his heart beating out a sharp staccato in his throat.

_Now I hope you've all got some tissues handy, because it's about to get really hot in here, _Margherita was saying as Axel made it to the edge of the stage. Then she turned and winked at Axel. _I think that little lady needs a little bit of, hm, help over there. _Axel's eyes snapped over to the other end of the stage, where Roxas was waiting.

Axel took her meaning and made for the other side, not even bothering to be worried about the heels on his boots or how awkward he had felt before. The way Roxas was looking at him as he sauntered over was beyond sexy, his eyelids lowered and lips cherry red and you know what? He looked fucking hot dressed like a girl, makeup and illusionary boobs and all. The edges of the world around them frayed as came closer to the blond, and Axel suddenly felt madly giddy.

Was he going to make out with Roxas on the stage with tons of people watching?

Oh hell yes, he was.

Margherita was saying something in a sultry tone, but Axel wasn't listening anymore; the whole world other than Roxas faded, like he'd noticed had been happening lately, focused when he took his younger lover in his arms and kissed him soundly. Everything narrowed to the warmth of Roxas' body, the feel and taste of his lips (cherry) and teeth and tongue, tainted with the hints of cigarettes and mangos, hands on the small of his back, his ass; why would he ever want to stop kissing Roxas, when he felt this good and this right, arching against him, the slightest tremble in the blond's spine.

The perfect world Axel had descended into suddenly and abruptly popped, all when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He paused and pulled away from the kiss, still tasting Roxas on his lips; he could still feel the thrum of the blond's body, even the slightest shudder as they pulled away.

Margherita cleared her throat and fanned herself again. _Sorry you two – had to stop you before you started taking each other's clothes off._

Axel nodded vaguely, barely processing the words. They started making their way off the stage when Margherita caught Axel's arm, a hand over the microphone as she whispered in his ear.

_Axel, honey, I think you need to take that boy outside, _Margherita said with a wiggle to her eyebrows.

_It would be my pleasure, _Axel answered with a catlike grin.

_I'm sure it would! _Margherita called after him as Axel steered Roxas off the stage. _Want to go outside? _Axel asked Roxas, turning to talk in his ear.

Roxas nodded immediately, but asked him to hold on a second while he ran to go get something. A few minutes later he returned and grabbed Axel's hand, pulling him through the crowd and out the door. Axel expected him to stop at one of the tables so they could cool off, but instead Roxas was heading down the street, towards where they had parked his moped.

Roxas' patent heels clicked against the paved sidewalk rhythmically as he walked, pulling Axel behind him towards a group of parked cars. Axel raised an eyebrow, recognizing Pence's little SmartCar. "Where are we going?"

Roxas snickered. "Nowhere," he grinned, finding Pence's car and leaning back against it.

Axel smirked and moved in front of him, sliding his hands over Roxas' hips and pinning the blond to the car door as he leaned in to kiss him soundly. As Axel pressed forward Roxas hitched himself up further against the car, securing himself with a leg around Axel's waist. The redhead moaned deep in his throat as he deepened the kiss, leaning Roxas back against the frame of the car and running his hands up the blond's smooth legs slowly. Roxas broke the kiss to catch his breath, nipping Axel's lower lip gently and teasing it with his tongue. Axel's hands reached the curve of the blond's ass and squeezed, pulling Roxas harder against Axel and drawing a hitched moan from his younger lover. The redhead rolled his hips in smooth circular motions, despite the fact that he was still tucked and therefore getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Probably sensing his discomfort, and having already relieved his own, Roxas reached down to shift the hem of Axel's dress higher then slipped his hand underneath his underwear, his hand hot and tantalizing as he pulled Axel's cock free of its confines. Axel groaned low in his throat, his eyelids fluttering shut as Roxas' hand began stroking him. The blond was leering up at the picture of ecstasy playing across his face and flicking his tongue teasingly at Axel's lip, clearly pleased with his reaction.

_Think it'll be hot, us fucking dressed like girls? _Roxas whispered dirtily, lips just barely ghosting over his, sweet hot temptation Axel never could resist. He groaned in response, and felt an answering shudder run through Roxas' body. Then the blond growled, _Get in the car, _not even trying to contain the lust in his tone as he produced the key to Pence's SmartCar out of nowhere. Obviously he'd nabbed it from Pence while his friend wasn't looking.

Roxas dangled the key in front of him, raising an eyebrow in a clear question of 'well, you want to?'

In response Axel released him, a mad grin on his face, and the blond unlocked the vehicle, pulling the door open harshly. Then he pushed Axel inside into the passenger seat and climbed in over him while Axel moved the seat back as far as he could – which wasn't much, but it would do. Realizing how much easier it would be without their footwear, they threw their heels into the driver's seat.

As soon as he settled back into the seat Roxas straddled him and pulled Axel into a kiss, effectively picking up where they left off in Coming Out. Axel lost himself in the kiss, reaching over to slam the door of the SmartCar shut to give themselves a bit more privacy. As the kiss turned more passionate and Roxas started pushing the hem of Axel's dress up above his waist, Axel pulled away to catch his breath.

_This is Pence's car,_ Axel reminded him, sure he didn't want to stop and yet he was suddenly a little weirded out that they were going to have sex not only in a SmartCar, but Pence's SmartCar.

_Pence's brother's car, _Roxas corrected him, dipping his fingers into the deep V of his shirt and pulling out a hidden condom wrapper and a little package of lube. _We just have to make sure we're not that messy, _he said as he carefully tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth.

_Easier said than done, _Axel muttered, lifting his hips and pushing his underwear down; once those were out of the way he took the condom because the angle would've been hell on Roxas' arms. Roxas shifted away from his lower body so Axel could roll the condom down his own hard shaft and got rid of his own underwear. Another plastic wrapper ripped; Axel glanced up briefly to see the blond squirting some of the lube onto his fingers before offering the little package to Axel. The redhead took it and Roxas molded himself to Axel's body, curled over him and stroking his erection with lubed fingers.

Arms wrapped around Roxas' torso, Axel squeezed the rest of the lube onto his fingers and began teasing his upper thigh, inching closer to his entrance. Twisting his finger against the puckered muscles of his entrance and finding them somewhat stretched, Axel pushed two fingers inside of him and began stretching the blond, smoothing lube along his inner walls.

_Mmmm_, Roxas moaned in his ear, nuzzling the side of his face. _Want to ride you._

_Ready? _Axel murmured, nipping at Roxas' lips.

Roxas nodded in response and repositioned himself in the cramped cabin of the SmartCar; Axel ran his hands up Roxas' thighs, pushing his skirt up. He guided Roxas down, one hand holding his cock as Roxas moved, using his grip on the back of Axel's seat as leverage. They shared an intake of breath as the blunt head of Axel's cock penetrated the ring of tight muscle and Roxas took control, easing his way down with no rush.

The blond dropped his forehead gently against Axel's, breathing deeply as Roxas descended onto his cock, taking him deeper and deeper. Axel held him steady, guiding his hips and his own thrusts to hit Roxas' prostate. Finally, when Axel was fully seated inside of his lover, he held that position for a moment to nuzzle his nose; no matter how many times they had sex over the last few weeks, they'd gotten into the habit of sharing this little quiet moment before they could take in the anticipation of the hot press of bodies that was eternally intoxicating when they were together like this. It felt a bit sappy and weird, thinking about it out of context, but Axel always felt ridiculously happy.

Axel knew this position in the car was bound to get uncomfortable fast, so once he could feel that Roxas was well adjusted he tilted the blond's hips and rolled his own, thrusting into the tight moist heat. Roxas exhaled a sigh, licking his lips and gripping Axel's hair, his elbows now propped up on the back of the seat.

The angle was awkward as all hell as Axel had predicted but he continued thrusting, attuned to Roxas' pleasure and comfort in their tight quarters. Axel's hands roamed over the swell of his ass, the length of his back as his fingers grasped at the blue material of his shirt, up his neck, cupping the side of his face as they kissed, tongues mimicking their current activities. Murmured, erotic exhalations quickly fogged up the windows of the SmartCar as they moved against each other.

Holding the blond tightly against him, Axel began feeling the approach of his climax; his formerly slower tempo grew faster, into quick, deep thrusts that drew impassioned, feverish words and sounds from Roxas' throat. The heat welling up inside him and coiling like a tensioned spring, Axel devoted his attentions to Roxas' erection, weeping against his stomach, stroking him to completion and a high, satisfied shout. Axel felt the spring release in his own body, a choked cry finding its way from his throat as he came to the feeling of Roxas contracting around him, drawing out his orgasm.

"Fuck," was all Axel could manage moments later, the word exhaled weakly as they both began to recover.

Roxas giggled. "Yes," he answered, placing a kiss on Axel's lips. _We should get dressed._

Axel nodded numbly, not wanting to leave the warmth of Roxas' arms and body. But Roxas shifted and opened the car door, allowing cool air to rush in and chill Axel's skin. As Roxas moved Axel held the condom in place, easing his now-flaccid cock from the blond's body.

While Roxas found his underwear and started cleaning himself up, Axel pulled the condom off and tied it, throwing it in a nearby dumpster. Roxas handed him his underwear and, hidden by the other cars parked in the area, started putting themselves back together again.

_Let's go for a walk, _Roxas purred once they were dressed again. _I'm not ready to go back yet. And you have, _the blond gave up explaining and tried to wipe the remnants of lip gloss off of Axel's nick and cheek. 

_Me neither – want to keep you for myself for just a bit longer, _Axel said, twining their fingers together as they walked down the block.

They were coming back from their walk when Pence accosted them, clearly pissed off and incredulous. _Are you guys fucking serious? _he demanded angrily.

_What? _Roxas asked, giggling.

_You know what! You bastards fucked in my car!_

_Brother's car, _Roxas muttered. _I'm going to pay to have it cleaned, I promise._

Pence scowled. _Keys. Now. My car keys and your moped keys._

_The fuck, I need my keys to get home,_ Roxas shot back.

_Yeah, and Olette flat out refuses to sit in the seat you idiots jizzed all over, so she's going to take your moped. _

_And what are we supposed to use?_

_A bus, _Pence snorted. _One of the night busses. I know it's hard when you've had a few Cuban Beaches, but think next time before you fuck in someone else's car._

Roxas handed the keys over sullenly. _I'll get it cleaned, don't worry. You're not really that pissed at me, are you?_

Pence frowned at him, then shook his head. _No man, just don't fuck in other people's cars! _he finished with a chuckle.

Roxas sighed dramatically. _Alright, we'll find a bus. Come on, honey, _he said, grasping Axel's hand as they started heading for a night bus stop.

Having never been called 'honey' or the Italian equivalent before then, all Axel could think to respond with was a sloppy kiss to the blond's temple as they teetered towards the stop.

Later the next week, Axel was still recovering from the drag ball mentally. It had been a lot of unexpected fun, as he got more comfortable in his clothing – but he wasn't sure he'd do it again anytime soon. It had been too much work getting ready, and he was pretty sure Roxas liked him just the way he was. The shaving was now really obnoxious since his hair was growing back, and he had to deal with that itch. But otherwise? Completely and totally worth it. And furthermore, life was good: he had Roxas, and now he had his friends back, having patched things up further with Demyx.

Since he was heading to Amsterdam with Zexion, Demyx, Xigbar, and a few others in less than two days, Axel was getting things together at his school apartment and making plans with the others for what they wanted to do.

Demyx however, was being absolutely no help; he was warbling a Guster song, belting out "or did you get lost in Aaaaaamsterdaaaaaam" when he wasn't sure about the rest of the lyrics or didn't feel like paying attention to them. This situation ended only when Zexion got too frustrated with his off-key singing that he threw a shoe in Demyx's direction.

Yeah, life was pretty good.


	8. Hidden Track: Time to Pretend

Hidden Track- Moped Romance: Live in Amsterdam  
Author- Alovelysilence  
Giftfic- For darthvair_65 / pecanpie_squared  
Summary- Takes place after chapter 7 in the Moped Romance universe. Axel and his fellow Rome abroad program students take a trip to Amsterdam for the weekend. He and Demyx end up having a little fun.  
Warnings- Amsterdam and the side effects of a coffee house visit. Space cake. A Sex Museum. Naughty nuns. Penises that really shouldn't be THAT big.  
Rating- R for drug use and sexual themes.  
Pairings- Implied Axel/Roxas, Demyx/Zexion, and a very slight mentioning of Xigbar/Demyx.  
Disclaimer- I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any character therein. The song belongs to MGMT and their label.  
A/N- While the lovely darthvair_65 was doing her thing in Rome, I was going to school in England. During this time I visited Amsterdam, which led to some interesting times. While beta-ing for Moped Romance, I couldn't help but wonder what our dears Axel and Demyx would get up to if they ever got the chance to go there. Here is the result.  
This is my first fic EVER, so let me know what you think! Flames welcome, but preferably with something constructive thrown in there.

*Pecan's note: I am posting this mini fic within Moped Romance at the blessing of the BetaMistress, since she doesn't want to try to figure out the system ~ she's a busy girl, either way. But so! Like she says up in the A/N, it's her first fic, and I am happy she gave me her fic virginity XD Enjoy~ *

Hidden Track - Time To Pretend

_This is our decision, to live fast and die young.  
We've got the vision, now let's have some fun._

Demyx walked with a conspicuously slow turn of his head, left…pause…gradual juddering rotation…right. The idle spectator could almost write it off as an especially keen observation technique one would often see among spectators in museums. This assumption, however, could be proven dead wrong if one noticed the unfocused redness of his teal eyes.

Turning again to face forward, slow pace consistent, he entered the next room where he stopped moving entirely. Heavily dilated eyes widened.

"Woah, dude! That… That COCK! That cock would put even Xiggy's power shlong to shame. Uh… Mhmm, good times."

Axel held back the burning questions about what those 'good times' were and when Demyx discovered the apparently substantial size of Xigbar's dick as he stepped next to his friend. He figured he could make better use of that material when he wasn't in his current state of being baked off his ass. Preferably while in the teasing company of Marluxia... Make that coupled with the sexually tense company of Zexion and we have ourselves a great conversation. Yeah, that sounds good. Heh. Heheh.

He lifted heavy lidded eyes to see what caused his friend to blurt out such a deliciously blackmail worthy statement.  
They stood in front of him, both surprisingly taller than himself even when he wasn't as horribly slouched as he was at that particular moment. People; man, woman, and child alike, walked up to take pictures next to the two giant cocks, almost fully erect on either side of the room.

"Woah. Those are some cocks."

"Take a picture of me with it Axel!" Demyx struggled with the contraption strapped to his wrist, using as little movement possible to untangle it and successfully pull it off. "Here's my camera."

After waiting for an Australian brunette to finish having her picture taken while sitting comfortably on the ball sack of one of the statues, Demyx stepped up next to the overly large phallus, wrapped his arms around the veiny shaft, and smiled.

"Say 'size-queen.'" Axel muttered as Demyx grinned stupidly. The picture was slightly off center and out of focus, but it would do.

"Woo! Your turn." Demyx stole the camera back from Axel and pushed him weakly towards the statue. Axel ungracefully collapsed onto the balls, still slouched but trying to make his grin look sexy and sly for the picture. Unfortunately for Axel, as the saying goes, cameras don't lie, and this camera was proving to be a traditionalist. Axel's state was clearly apparent in his half-lidded bloodshot eyes, destined to become a favorite subject of facebook mockery for years to come.

Demyx laughed as he turned his camera off and reattached it to his wrist. "Come oooon, let's head over to the next room."

-

Their trip to Amsterdam was turning out to be a very interesting experience. As soon as they threw their belongings into the ten-person hostel room, Demyx tried to convince everyone to join him on an adventure to one of Amsterdam's notorious coffee houses. The coffee was, of course, the last thing on his mind.

Axel, being curious and, hell- who doesn't want to get high in Amsterdam?- decided to join him while the others took the time to get settled and nap, willing to sacrifice the day to prepare for Amsterdam's even more notorious nightlife. The one exception was Zexion, who decided to use the day to visit the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum, then ending it all with a tour of the Anne Frank Museum.  
No one was surprised, really.

After splitting one surprisingly delicious slice of space cake –better than any pot brownie either had eaten, definitely- Axel and Demyx had a very different museum in mind for their next destination.

-

"Look at that photograph! And that one! I've never tried that position before. Hmm . . . Hey are those nuns?"

Axel was already staring at the collection of photographs Demyx was gaping at, tempted, for one strange moment, to stick a finger in his friend's wide open mouth. But that required effort, and exposure to some sort of disease, Axel was sure.

"Yep, they sure are."

Demyx furrowed his brow and frowned. "I never knew they could be so kinky."  
"You were never Catholic, were you?" Axel scoffed.

"Nope, Episcopalian all the way, baby."

"Heh, well, those nuns seem to have the whole 'smite the sinful' thing down. Look at that girls face. Heh"

Giggle. "Yeah, and that whip!"

Snort. "I guess we know what Larxene did in her Catholic school years."

"Question is whether she was the one whipping the nuns?"

With the following harmony of high giggles and low chuckles, Larxene's sordid past was decided, finalized, and locked away into both of their momentarily crippled brains waiting to be hazily resurfaced for future torment.

As if struck with sudden brilliance, Axel whipped his head to face Demyx. "We should steal this picture and leave it at the Vatican. Give the Pope a present."

Demyx nodded his ascent as excitedly as he could muster his lethargic motor skills. "Haha, signed with love!"

-

Continuing their journey through the museum was proving to be strange and difficult at the same time. It was like a maze, especially to those whose brains were addled with the drugs that the city readily and legally offered. Demyx and Axel just followed the crowd, stumbling up the surprising amount of stairs within the somewhat tall yet narrow building, then struggling their way down on the opposite side. Luckily there were no casualties, though Axel felt as if he were going to fall with every lazily cautious step he took.

Walking down one of the many flights the stairs, they noticed that the walls of the descent were decoratively lined with photographs of naked men, along with those of a more homoerotic nature. However, it wasn't the pictures, but what was in the fake window on the opposite wall that caught Axel's attention.  
A male doll, complete with blonde wig and makeup, was placed on a sling hanging down from the ceiling. It was made to recreate a scene as if you were looking into someone's window, a particularly kinky display of voyeurism. He was clad in nothing more than a leather codpiece and a pair of nipple clamps, and Axel could do nothing to stop a little rogue drool from falling out of his mouth and onto his chin.

What I wouldn't give to see Roxy like that. Pale legs open for me, exposed and vulnerable. Yeah, just like that, heh. Surrounded by his panting. Mmm, his begging. Nipples perked, bright and sore as I remove the clamps to lick and sooth each tender nub. Leather hugging his hard dick, already dripping with precum . . . Fuck.

Even through all of the drugs Axel could feel himself getting hard, dick rising along with his frustration. What are you doing to me? God Roxas, I want you so badly. If you were here right now…Uhg. I miss him. I miss that cocky brat attitude. I miss him… I…

"I think I love him." It was a statement, not a question, that was said out loud; a statement that was said with such finality in his tone that it stunned even him. The words gave way to a moment of clarity out from the haze of drugs and lust; a moment that came upon him so fast he didn't quite know what to do with it.

"Whuzzat?"

Stunned silence broken, he turned to look Demyx in his confused, bloodshot eyes. He gave a brief pause, then said, "I'm in love with Roxas."

Demyx just looked at him like he didn't quite grasp what he was trying to say.

"That's… deep, man. Wow. You sure?"

Axel looked away from the lifeless doll and resumed his path down the stairs. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Ahh. Good for you, I think. Good luck with that."

"Yeah..."

After being assaulted by a naked wax woman and creepy flasher- both of which made Demyx squeak highly, though luckily calmed by dulled senses and lethargy- they made it down another staircase and out of the museum, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming sunlight. Demyx shuffled forward, dropping his head, and grinned.

"I gotta bring Zexy here. Maybe get 'em to re-enact one of those photos with me. Ah huh, wheelbarrow." Demyx's grin only got wider as half formed images of Zexion, naked, stomach down on a rug, legs spread wide and ready for lift-off danced throughout his mind.

"Do you really think Zexion will go anywhere alone with you? Let alone a place with naughty pictures and sex para…uh…things. Heh. You're lucky I went with you."

"I'll just tell him it's a museum." Giggle-snort. "He likes museums. It's full of vaaaaaaaluable knowledge! Hehe! Yes." he moved his right hand in what it seemed to be an attempt in excitement, but it seemed to give up on its journey, resting barely above his hip. He forgot about it and kept it there, arm crooked and hand limp. Axel noticed this and laughed.

"Heh, you look like a retarded T-Rex baby."

Demyx pouted. "Aww, Axey! You can be so meeaaannnn. Haha, Rawr!" Demyx cackled, but, besides a slight finger twitch, displayed no signs of moving his arm from its lingering position. In fact, the other sluggishly went to join its counterpart on his opposite side, completing the look. Axel dubbed it the reptilian foetus.

He chuckled to himself for a few moments before catching a whiff of air tinged with fryer grease. Mission time.

"Hey Axel! Hey, sing a song with me! What song do ya'wanna sing, huh man?"

"Nothing. Not right now. Can't you smell it? It's French fries man, or chips, or whatever-the-fuck they call 'em here. They're coming. We have to find them."

Axel pointed down the street, managing to lift his arm higher than Demyx's attempt. Feeling accomplished, he pushed Demyx down the sidewalk, avoiding the slew of cyclists passing by. Meanwhile, Axel's words finally made their way to Demyx's auditory cortex after struggling through his clouded and cycle distracted brain.

"Ohhh food! Lets get it!"

After a few minutes of stumbling together, they finally managed to make it to the location of the street vender who was selling an assortment of snack foods and, as Axel's nose determined, fried goods.

After purchasing their cup of french fries drenched heartily in condiments, mayonnaise in Demyx's case, ketchup in Axels, they embarked on the difficult task that was eating and walking simultaneously.

After only a few minutes Axel successfully finished off his fries, licking his ketchup stained fingers while he looked for the nearest garbage can he could find in order to dispose of the cup. After he found one, he turned to see the progress of his slightly more challenged friend.

"You look like someone jizzed a bucket on your face."

Demyx looked up from his massacred cup, dollops of mayonnaise smeared over his lips and cheeks. He was still trying to grab the last remaining fries from the bottom of the cup while unsuccessfully attempting to keep his hands relatively mayonnaise free.

"Uh, the mayonnaise won't stay neat." He whined, raising a hand to his mouth to wipe his face. Luckily he stopped before he made an even bigger mess, noticing that his hand was completely covered with the thick white substance.

"Hehe, do I look like I was the center of a gang bang?"

Axel cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, yes you do. Don't let Zexion see or you'll never be able to convince him that you're not a cockslut." Axel frowned. "Unless he's into that."

Demyx smiled and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like I'll make him into it, before finally speaking up.

"At least I don't look like I just ate a baby."

"Babies are delicious. Don't hate."

Demyx looked up at Axel slowly. "…You're a frightening, frightening man, Axel."

"Mhm. I try."

Deciding that they were both too sluggish to carry on a lasting coherent conversation, or at least one consisting of more than grunts and giggles, they continued their journey in silence.

Axel turned his thoughts back to Roxas. Was he really in love with him? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I am. He sighed contentedly as he thought about his blonde lover. I wonder how he is. He's probably dancing in front of some building. Sexy dance.

Would I be able to convince him into a sling? Can I buy a sling? How much would they go for?

Axel contemplated the worthiness of the investment, pros starting to greatly outweigh the cons, until he noticed something of grave importance to his weighted body.

"Hey, Dem?"

"Yeah, Axey?"

"Where the fuck are we?"

Demyx paused and looked around, and, failing to spot any familiar landmarks, decided to adopt a slightly sheepish grin while turning back to his friend. "…Uh…heh…"

Axel's sigh turned heavy as Demyx simply giggled up at him. "Great."


	9. Track 8: In For the Kill

Title: Moped Romance [8/12]  
Pairing: Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

Warnings: Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene, some recreational drug use, parents using Facebook. Special appearances by Axel's parents and Xemnas haha! Brief cameo by Reno. Oh, and epic amounts of exposition.  
Rating: R.  
Beta: myself, since the BetaWife and the BetaMistress are VACATIONING in LA (those whores). So any mistakes are my own failure in observation.  
A/N: Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, some La Roux ~

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** Having returned safely from Amsterdam Axel attempts to reconcile his realization of time with his new take on his relationship with Roxas; however a resulting confession may destroy everything. Also, if you haven't read the Amsterdam chapter, please do! :D

**Author's Note:** So . . . I hope I didn't completely scare people away with the last chapter heh heh. I know it was a lot to handle for some ~ but it was so very much fun writing that chapter. I'd been _waiting_ to post that. Anywhose, here is Track 8; I do not know when I'll be able to put 9 up just because I'll be playing Birth By Sleep until my thumbs bleed and then there's also grad school classes to worry about. No matter how long it takes, I will not abandon this fic. I will see you all through to the end, I promise – as long as no one kills me at the end of this chapter. And just for fun, originally this chapter used Lady GaGa's 'Paper Gangster' as a title ~ however I decided I liked this one better for the whole premise.

**Cultural Note: **_carabinieri _are the state police, who generally have a reputation for being kind of useless.

Track 8 – In For the Kill

_We can fight our desires_

_But when we start making fires_

_We get ever so hot_

_Whether we like it or not_

_They say we can love who we trust_

_But what is love without lust?_

_Two hearts with accurate devotions_

_And what are feelings without emotions?_

It was sometime in early April that Axel realized he was taking Rome for granted, and hadn't realized he was doing so. Hanging out with Roxas and his Italian friends all the time, Axel had almost forgotten about their surroundings. It no longer seemed foreign to him, walking past ancient monuments and thousand-year-old ruins. Axel saw sites like the Vatican, Castle Sant'Angelo, Bernini's fountains, and the Coliseum almost every day . . . and he'd almost stopped seeing them, really and truly seeing them, weeks before. They had begun to mean nothing to him, not compared to the hot Italian number on his arm. When would he ever be able to nap in the Borghese gardens, watch Lazio v. Arsenal matches and scream like a bloody maniac with a Peroni in hand, sit in a bar eating pizza and chatting 'til all hours with drag queens – in America? Who would he practice Italian with, much less his 'naughty' Italian for which a partner was most definitely necessary?

It was early April.

And Axel realized, quite abruptly, that his stay was coming to an end in four weeks.

But when he voiced his sudden realizations to Roxas, who was curled comfortably at his side on the mattress, the blond was less than pleased.

In fact, Roxas was downright livid. He kicked Axel's shin rather viciously and turned over, struggling to extricate himself from their cocoon of blankets, growling in his murderous tone that made Axel want to shield his balls from the possibly impending impact.

_What the hell? What did I say?_ Axel demanded, making a grab for the blond's arm.

"Why don't you go home?" Roxas asked peevishly, his emotion-stilted English and accent drilling a hole straight into Axel's heart. "All you will do is leave, so get out," he said, shrugging out of Axel's grasp and moving to stand.

"I'm not going yet!" Axel said, pulling Roxas back into bed. "I've still got a couple more weeks," he continued, trying to placate the protesting blond in his arms.

_A couple more weeks, _Roxas grumbled angrily under his breath, trying to escape Axel's embrace. _Bullshit. Like that makes it any better._

Axel pulled the blond in closer despite his protests and Roxas flopped back on the mattress eventually, still pouting and grumbling about the situation. "Hey," Axel murmured his voice low and comforting as he hugged Roxas, snuggling into the crook of his neck. Roxas initially protested, that is until Axel began kissing and licking his neck and right behind his ear. Holding him closely, Axel could feel the tension and anger slowly ebb out of his body – he opened his mouth to say something, but clamped it shut decisively.

Axel had been waiting for the opportune moment to confess what he had realized in Amsterdam – despite having one hell of a pot hangover he had the few days after that little excursion Axel clearly remembered thinking, realizing, that he had fallen in love with the prickly blond. It had been at once the most terrifying, thrilling, amazing, and yet horrifying thought, one that Axel had been sure was purely the product of space cake. And yet upon further examination of the theory when they returned from the trip and Roxas jumped him, Axel realized that yeah, this feeling was absolutely, mind-blowingly real. And in realizing that it was indeed real, Axel started to obsess over telling him; it was all he could think about, finding a way to convey his feelings to the blond.

Four weeks, his mental self reminded him. Four weeks and you have to go back to Chicago.

Looking down at the currently content Roxas in his arms, Axel simply couldn't bear that thought.

_This_ is what Larxene was talking about;Axel shoved that thought away as abruptly as it floated through his thought-filled mind. Now was definitely not the time.

_I'm sorry,_ he murmured, his lips kissing the flesh on Roxas' neck. _I didn't mean to upset you._

Roxas shifted grumpily in his arms. _I know. _Then he looked away, focusing his attention elsewhere around the room.

_Hey, _Axel said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Roxas and snuggled closer. _You'll miss me, right?_

At that moment, Roxas froze – his entire body seized up and felt like it was going to snap beneath Axel's fingertips. The sharp intake of breath did not go unnoticed by the redhead, who realized he'd made a mistake in his grammar and conjugation. _Oh, sorry. _That was NOT what he'd meant to say at all. _You missed me, when I left for Amsterdam?_

Roxas relaxed, but only slightly. _Perhaps, _he granted, his tone still a bit clipped for Axel to assume he was in enough of Roxas' good graces to touch him more.

_You met me at the airport._

_Coincidence. _

_Oh, you were picking someone else up at the airport and I just happened to be there?_

_Shut up, _Roxas grumbled.

Axel took that as a 'yes I did, but I'm not going to admit it so cut your losses and drop it' and did not bring the subject up again; the last thing Axel wanted was to deal with a combative blond when all he could think about was telling Roxas he loved him. Even as he relaxed and fell back asleep his head pillowed on Axel's arm, the redhead figured that confession was for another day.

Four weeks were left until the end of the term, and the study abroad instructors were finally getting to Axel's name on the list of students for their 'mid-term check-in.' They'd started three weeks ago with Xion Avery, but thanks to scheduling conflicts and classes Axel's check-in was really more at the three-quarters mark. Axel himself had pretty much forgotten the whole thing and wouldn't have even known about it if the instructors hadn't ambushed him after Italian class one day.

"Xemnas will be doing your interview," the art history professor – he could never remember her name – informed him, indicating to the tall, broad shouldered muscle man next to her.

Axel nodded his head respectfully towards the other man. "Sure, that's fine with me."

"Great!" she said happily, clapping her hands together. "There's a very interesting thing I have to see at the Il Gesú . . ."

"I will make sure it gets done, Professor," Xemnas reassured her in his deep, imperious voice as she backed away in the direction of the front door.

Which left Axel standing a very conscious several feet apart from the white-haired professor he'd done everything to avoid so far. Not that Axel didn't like Xemnas, but he did find the man a bit unsettling.

"Well then," Xemnas said pleasantly, "why don't we go find a bar to chat?"

"Uh, sure," Axel shrugged.

Without further word Xemnas lead them out onto Via Governo del Vecchio and hung a left, taking them towards what Axel realized was Roxas' brother's bar. This could get interesting.

Tifa, ever the cheerful barista, greeted him enthusiastically when he entered, calling out his usual order even as she started to make it. Axel nodded and grinned, feeling a little bit more comfortable with the situation for some reason. Once his cappuccino was ready she motioned sternly for him to pay up after he was jokingly reluctant. Xemnas gave her his order, and she set about getting that ready.

"You know the bartenders here?" Xemnas asked mildly as he waited.

"Yeah," Axel said, taking a sip of his cappuccino. "I'm uh, dating her husband's younger brother."

"I see."

Axel shrugged. If Xemnas had a problem, he could take it up with Cloud and see where that got him. Tifa presented Xemnas with his latte and the older man handed over the few Euros before turning away from the bar to find a table to sit at. Axel followed him over to a table with two chairs, and sat across from him.

"So how has this experience been treating you?" Xemnas restarted the conversation as he settled himself in his seat. "Obviously you have made friends and acquaintances outside of the study abroad class."

"It's been really great," Axel said honestly. "I've learned a lot, I'm pretty well adjusted with living here, and I've had a lot of fun."

"Your Italian teacher informed me that you've made extensive progress on both your written and speaking tests, and that your grasp of the grammar and vocabulary has gone up exponentially."

"Helps to hang out with a bunch of native speakers who can tell me when I'm saying things wrong," Axel chuckled.

"Indeed," the man replied thoughtfully and indulgently, as though speaking with a wily child. Axel hated it when he did that. "How is the apartment setup working for you?"

"It's not so bad," Axel said. "I usually stay over at my boyfriend's apartment, though."

"Yes, Xigbar is quite ecstatic about having his own room, so I have heard."

"Yup, but otherwise everything's cool. No huge issues or anything."

"Are you looking forward to going home?"

Now _that_ was a loaded question. Axel paused for a few moments, considering it and staring blankly at his coffee in the process. On one hand, yeah sure he was ready to go home. He missed his parents (hell, even his brother just a little bit) and his friends from home, and was looking forward to seeing them and recounting his tales, explaining some of the photos that were up on Facebook just a little bit more. That voice however, was drowned out for the most part by the emphatic and enthusiastic NO that had Roxas' voice.

The 'No' answer reminded him of all the fun he'd had with the blond and his friends, of his sudden realization that he loved the kid, and all the pleasantly tingly sensations that occurred somewhere in his midriff when reminded of this. It reminded him of how fucking _happy_ he was with Roxas, and how he'd give almost anything to never leave. His heart lurched at the thought.

"I guess," he answered at length. "I really like it here, but I am looking forward to seeing my friends from home."

"Being romantically attached to someone here will definitely make the process of leaving more difficult. What does this person think of that upcoming development?"

"I don't think he likes it very much, to be honest. He got really pissed at me a few nights ago for mentioning it."

"Don't suppose he would. Are you two very attached, or rather, emotionally involved-"

"I don't really think that's your business," Axel said sharply, cutting him off mid-sentence. "It's not just about sex, if that's what you're implying."

Xemnas raised an eyebrow. "Obviously I've offended you. I assure you, that was not my intent. I was only trying to assess your relationship and how it might affect you as we prepare to leave Italy for the states."

Axel remained silent and sipped his drink.

"Well, I can see that my input is neither welcome nor needed. You are doing well in your classes and exceptionally well in Italian, and are quite well-adjusted to life here. I remember you had just a touch of culture shock at first, but you seem more yourself. You know about the class trip to Florence this weekend, correct?"

Oh yeah. Axel nodded his ascent briefly.

"Then good luck in the last few weeks of the term, Axel." With that Xemnas removed himself from the table, leaving his now-empty cup on the bar and the tinkle of the bell over the door in his wake.

As Axel contemplated the swirling thoughts in his head, he vaguely heard the sounds of heeled boots sauntering up behind him. Then he felt the weight of a hand on the back of his chair.

"What was that about?" Tifa asked, looking over his head at the door.

"The end of the semester," Axel answered.

"You should talk with him," Tifa said a few moments later, rather abruptly; she didn't need to say she was talking about Roxas.

"I don't know if he'll want to listen," Axel said hollowly.

Tifa patted his shoulder gently. "If it's you, he will." Then she left, her boots clicking along the wooden floor as she took her place behind the bar again.

Finally deciding he'd had quite enough of this shit Axel headed over to his school apartment just to pick up a few things before heading to Roxas' later. Maybe he'd even get to hang out with Demyx in the meantime, he mused while sitting on the relatively crowded bus in the general direction of his apartment.

After coming back from Amsterdam Axel found himself hanging out and talking with Demyx a great deal more; his best friend was now privy to a secret, the revelation of his feelings for Roxas and the intense feelings surrounding that confession. All in all Demyx was pretty cool about it, as supportive as he could be given the circumstances.

Axel walked into Demyx's bedroom and found him leaning back against the railing of the patio, sitting in a dangerously tilted chair with his head lolling back and his arms splayed bonelessly off to the side. And . . . there was a hand-rolled joint held loosely between his fingertips.

Demyx had somehow smuggled pot into Rome from Amsterdam, and was smoking out on their little porch area for the entire world to see.

"Demyx!" Axel shouted, waving his hand in front of his nose to get rid of the smell now permeating the room.

"'Sup," Demyx answered lazily, though as far as Axel could see his friend had not moved a single muscle in answering.

"Are you an idiot? Get out of the window, do you want the landlady to smell it and call the Carabinieri? You'll get arrested, dumbfuck, and I can't bail you out!" The redhead tried to drag Demyx back inside, but the other boy's body was practically lead weight. Sensing a different tactic was available, Axel plucked the joint from his friend's hands and stubbed it out on the window sill, while Demyx looked on vaguely scandalized.

"You . . ." was all he managed to murmur, which given his current state was actually pretty good. "Bastard."

"Shut up," Axel growled, dragging Demyx' chair inside and shutting the window behind him. Then he crossed his arms and glared at the mohawked blond. "If you're going to smuggle drugs, you could at least share the stash."

Demyx didn't answer for a while as he processed this new development. When he did however, he looked up at Axel with an innocent, wide-eyed expression and offered the redhead his cigarette lighter. "Peace offering?" he said several seconds later.

Axel grinned, and lit up.

Two hours later, the joint was long gone and Axel and Demyx were singing an a cappella duet to Lady GaGa's "Paper Gangster." Demyx had a bath towel wrapped around his head and was wearing large black sunglasses while Axel rapped into a hairbrush and paid no mind to his being strapped into Olette's bra once more.

"Hey," Demyx said blandly, breaking off from his singing while Axel was attempting to beat box to an entirely different tune. "Hey, Axel. 'member you were talking about love and Roxas back at the museum? Remember that?"

"Ha ha, you said 'member,'" Axel teased him. Because really, that was pretty funny.

"Shut _up_, you sound like you're five," Demyx giggled. "No, no, you said you loved 'im."

Axel paused to consider this, the cogs in his brain going very slowly before light dawned. "Oh yeah, I did. Pretty cool, right?"

"Think you really do?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"That's really deep, man," Demyx responded after a brief pause.

"I think you said that last time," Axel said lazily, completely unconcerned. Just thought he'd throw that out there.

"Well yeah, cause it is. That's kind of crazy, man. Falling in love with your own little Italian boy."

Axel's answer was a wide, self-satisfied smirk, rather a grin that reached almost ear to ear, and a low, secretive chuckle.

"You got it bad."

"No," Axel piped up, "I got it _good,_" he corrected with a chuckle.

All remnants of the previous afternoon's misadventure gone, Axel and Demyx made a bee-line for the Abbey Theatre pub so they could snag a prime wi-fi spot near the bar after class; Axel had barely been on his computer, much less the internet in the last week with everything just being crazy, so he expected there were a bunch of messages he'd have to look through. Sure enough, there were demands for pictures on his Facebook whose notices clogged up his inbox, and even more comments on the pictures he'd already posted before leaving for Amsterdam. There was also a reminder about signing up for classes for the fall semester, something Axel hadn't even given a huge amount of thought to yet. As he was starting to look through the catalog an incoming call box popped up from Skype, telephone icon shaking as the call came through; Axel felt a little bit of dread creep up his spine – the caller ID read 'Mom.'

He clicked the 'accept' button instantly, and a large video window opened up on his desktop, displaying not only his mother but also his father sitting right beside her. Long brown hair in a braid as usual, Aerith was pouting in a way that was both admonishing and relieved – a trait all moms probably had to acquire before having children, her own brilliant green eyes narrowed. Axel grinned uneasily.

"It's about time," Aerith huffed. "We've been trying to reach you forever."

"Thought maybe you'd forgotten how to use the computer," his father Zack chuckled, ever the easy-going guy. He was reclined back in his chair, arms folded back behind his head and mostly obscured by his spiky black hair; he was surveying Axel more calmly than his wife, with more of a hint of amusement at the situation. "Then we realized that no, you were probably too busy being high and putting up pictures from your trip into the sex museum to remember to call us."

Oh. Right. Dad had a Facebook – which he barely knows how to use, but enough to stalk him just a little.

"Um. Hi Mom, hi Dad," Axel waved, watching as the tiny video feed his parents could see mirrored his movement belatedly. He cleared his throat, hoping to skip over the subject of Amsterdam with them. "How are things?"

"Just wonderful," his mother gushed, her angry demeanor vanishing, clearly just overjoyed to finally get him over Skype. "Excited to come home?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Don't get too excited there," his father snorted. "Might hurt yourself."

"No, I am excited to come home and see everyone," Axel attempted to explain. "I just . . . you know, I like it here."

"Is it because of that boy you're seeing?" Aerith suddenly asked, her excitement betrayed in her facial features and tone of voice.

"Wait, what?"

"Reno told us you were seeing someone," his mother said, looking at him with hope in her eyes.

"Fuck, Reno," Axel growled. When his mother shot him an admonishing stare Axel couldn't help but look cowed. "Sorry. I was hoping to tell you myself so you didn't get any adulteration from Reno."

"He was actually pretty excited about it," Zack said. "In a good way," he amended.

Axel scowled, thinking about how he could dodge this whole topic with his parents. They'd never been anything but supportive of Axel, bolstering him as he came out to friends and family and accepting him for everything he was and wasn't. Despite all of this, Axel just didn't really want to discuss the subject of his Italian boyfriend with them.

His mother, however, didn't seem to care. "Oh come on Axel! What's he like? Give just that much, hm?"

Axel sighed through his nose. "He's a really cool guy. I like him a lot, we have a lot of fun together. As long as you're going to Facebook-stalk me, he's the short blond in the pictures."

"Ooh, jackpot," Zack said under his breath and leaned in closer to the computer; Axel assumed he was now looking through his photos on Facebook looking for any pictures of Roxas.

"Well, while your father looks for dirt, you may as well talk with me," his mother said with a cheerful grin. "So you really like him, huh?"

Axel nodded. "Yeah. I could really get used to him being around a lot more, you know."

Aerith gave him a small, sad smile. "Leaving's going to be really hard, I think."

Axel cleared his throat again. "Yeah, not exactly looking forward to that. But I guess we'll see what happens."

"As long as you're staying safe."

"No Mom," Axel deadpanned, "didn't you hear? The Pope officially banned the use of condoms, and they're almost impossible to get on the black market so Roxas and I have unprotected sex all the time."

"That's not funny!"

"What, you know I'm smarter than that."

"You walked right into that one," Zack muttered to his wife, eyes still focused on the Facebook webpage. "Aha! Found him. Oh look, he's-"

"Jailbait!" Another voice chimed in from the other side of the Atlantic, and a blur of movement that occurred between his parents dropped in closer to reveal Reno.

That bastard.

"Ok, so I totally revise my earlier statement about payment and all that," Reno said with an evil grin. "You lured him with candy, didn't you?"

"I'm going to hang up now," Axel growled.

"Reno!" Aerith scolded, pushing him back out of the frame. There was a pause in the discussion as Reno escaped from the room, somehow unscathed, while his mother followed.

"Well, I was going to say he looked cute," Zack said a few moments later. "Wouldn't necessarily go so far as 'jailbait' – how old is he?"

"Seventeen."

"Alright, a few years younger. Never would have pictured you as the cradle-robbing type."

"I could say the same for you."

"Hey now, you know I'm only kidding. He sounds like a good kid, can't complain about my son being happy."

Axel rubbed the back of his head, ruffling red spikes. "Thanks, Dad."

"Don't mention it. Now say goodbye to your mother, she has to get to school."

His mother had indeed flitted back onto the video feed, dressed for her day in an elementary school classroom. She waved and blew him a kiss. "It was wonderful talking with you sweetie," she said, smiling brilliantly.

"You too, Mom. Have fun teaching the little runts."

"There was a time you were that size too, you know," Aerith shot back. "Eons ago, but still. And try to call us more, we miss talking with you."

"I know, I apologize. It's been busy."

"You're getting out and experiencing new things though, right?"

"Yes," Axel answered confidently. "Roxas is even teaching me how to cook."

"Oh, is that his name? Interesting. But good! Now you can do some of the cooking at home!"

"Mom . . ."

"I've always wanted to try some authentic Italian food," his mother mused.

"Bye, Mom," Axel said, chuckling and waving to her. Aerith looked like she might add something else, but waved it away and rushed out the door.

"This is where I'll take my leave as well," Zack said, looking like he was holding back a massive yawn. "My morning caffeine calls."

"Alright, Dad. I'll talk with you later."

"See ya," he said, and the video call ended. Axel abruptly became aware that there was a body standing right beside him – Sandro, in fact – holding a plate of bruschetta and fixing him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes darting to the computer screen every few seconds.

"'Sup," Axel prompted him, reaching for the plate.

"Your family is kind of weird," Sandro replied after a few beats, pulling the bruschetta out of his hands. "Uh uh, you didn't order anything."

"That's what I usually get; I thought you were just bringing it over here."

"Nope. I was just eavesdropping. Sam'll get it."

Axel didn't send Sam back with an order, though; he was too busy turning over this whole thing with Roxas in his head. His parents approved of him, but in reality they would probably never get the chance to meet him, he thought bitterly. And Axel, well, Axel loved him, but the reality of four weeks left in the semester was starting to sink in.

Axel decided there that, come hell or high water, he was going to tell Roxas.

Amsterdam had been, flat-out, one of the craziest things Axel had done in a long time, specifically since arriving in Italy. Normally, at home anyway, he wasn't afraid to get out there and do something unusual – but being in Rome had required some adjustment. The awareness that this was a wholly new culture and way of life had really impacted him at the start, and he was left trying to be as cautious as was possible for him in the new environment. But now, getting used to Roman life with Roxas' guidance had allowed him to come out of his shell more and really, truly enjoy the experience. He knew he was getting the more authentic side of things; rather than getting shit-faced at a predominantly American bar, he was at a Roman one, enjoying not only his drink but also the company he kept. Axel had even surpassed Zexion in terms of fluency, and couldn't help but show off his skills just a little bit once in a while.

But on the subject of craziness, Axel kind of figured that maybe he was a Roman in a past life. Laid-back about life in general, but spontaneous enough to just do things for the hell of it. Roxas was a pretty spontaneous person as Axel found out, and he enjoyed every minute of it. It was an intoxicating mix of lifestyles, savor your drink for as long as you want but race and battle through traffic once you're finished, take your time but get here as fast as you can – it was something Axel came to thrive on. Roxas may or may not have figured this out, but Axel decided it was probably business as usual as far as the blond was concerned.

So nevertheless when Roxas showed up on the ubiquitous moped after Axel's Italian class was over, honking the tinny horn and waving him over, Axel figured there was probably an adventure in store for them. Hitching his bag over his shoulder once again Axel waved goodbye to his roommates and walked over, noting that Roxas already had the redhead's helmet out waiting for him.

_Hop on, _Roxas said with a devilish grin. _We're going to the beach._

Axel paused and cocked his head, taking a moment to fully assess this announcement. First of all, Roxas did not look like he was heading to the beach at all; he looked more like he was headed to a concert or maybe a club when the weather was cooler. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans and his sneakers, then also his leather jacket, a scarf, and the big black sunglasses Axel sometimes teased him for. There was no beach gear, not that there was any place to carry such a thing on a moped, and there was still a cool breeze on the air – virtue of it being spring in Rome.

_The beach? _Axel clarified.

Roxas nodded emphatically. _Hayner, Olette and Pence are already on their way. Let's go!_

Then Axel wondered why he was even questioning it, shrugged, and put his helmet on. Roxas revved up the engine and took off once Axel was securely holding on to him, plowing right into Corso Vittorio traffic and bursting out in the right lane. The traffic was something Axel would probably never really get used to; the burst of adrenaline from dodging buses and near misses involving SmartCars notwithstanding, Axel knew he never wanted to be behind the wheel here.

The trip in and of itself took about an hour; Roxas even had to stop at a petrol station to fill up, leaving Axel wondering if they should have just taken the train.

After he voiced this thought, Roxas looked scandalized. _We are taking the scenic route!_

(Read: Sure the train is safer, but near-death experiences are so much more entertaining.)

_What were you up to earlier? _Roxas shouted over the roar of the Vespa's engine.

_I got a call from my parents, _Axel answered. _Talked with them for a while, then my brother called in to check on me. _

Roxas nodded shortly a few moments later, when he'd processed that information.

It was a little while after that when Axel was hit with the salty air that came along with an ocean, and through the spaces between buildings Axel could catch a glimpse of the canvas-colored beach and the dark blue waves rolling lazily. He could also see that the beach was mostly empty, devoid of umbrellas and blankets; there were a few people walking along the shore, but very few in the first place. Roxas pulled off to the right and slowed into a parking space next to a small bar. Leaving their helmets with the bike, Roxas led him down a narrow ramp, the other end of which was buried in sand.

_Take your shoes off, _the blond advised, already untying his.

Luckily they were able to find Pence, Olette and Hayner pretty quickly; following the struggling kite halfway in the sky to its source worked pretty well in that endeavor. They had a few blankets already set up, and like Roxas none of them appeared to have brought any bathing suits – so Axel's thoughts of being without something important quickly dissipated. Roxas picked a blanket and plopped down on it, engaging in light conversation with Olette in between teasing comments to Hayner about not being able to get his kite up.

_Well if you're not going to help, I wouldn't be saying anything, _Hayner said, mimicking Roxas' teasing tone.

_I'm fine right here_, Roxas answered innocently as Axel sat cross-legged next to him. Hayner made a face and refocused his work on the kite.

They sat on the blanket for a while, amusing themselves stage-whispering about their friends' progress with the kite until Axel got bored and suggested they go for a walk along the beach for a bit. They left their shoes and socks with the blankets, and rolled up their pants before starting out. It was a windy afternoon on the waterfront, and the two boys strolled at the water's edge hand in hand while the chilly foam caught at their ankles. Roxas had even zipped up his leather jacket against the breeze.

_It's usually warmer than this, _he remarked sulkily. _If it were warmer we could go swimming._

_It is kind of cold, _Axel agreed, suppressing a shudder. _It was definitely warmer earlier when you came to pick me up._

Roxas shrugged, not needing to elaborate on the odd change in weather any more. Instead they continued walking, Axel enjoying the feel of Roxas' warm hand enclosed in his and the idle way the pad of Roxas' thumb stroked over the side of Axel's hand. It felt good, just being together like this. The blond seemed to be contemplating something, and fortunately for Axel he didn't have to guess for very long.

_You said you were talking with your brother, _Roxas said, turning his head to peer up at Axel through his sunglasses. _I didn't know you had a brother._

_Really? _Axel asked after a pause; it seemed ludicrous that he could get away with never mentioning and/or complaining about his older brother for the entire time he and Roxas had been together.

_You've never mentioned him, _Roxas elaborated.

Axel shrugged. _Not really much to say. He's my older brother. Has about eight years on me. His name is Reno._

Roxas' eyes crinkled up as he tested the name out on his tongue. _Reno. That's kind of an odd name._

_Says the kid named 'Roxas,' _Axel joked.

The blond responded with an elbow to Axel's ribs.

_It's a city in Nevada, one of the states, _Axel explained, laughing.

_What's he like?_

Axel thought long and hard about the answer, pondering the person he'd been forced into a fraternal bond with for all of twenty years. He recalled memories of Reno stealing pretty much everything as a kid. Being eight years his senior Reno never really cared much for the new addition; he was so used to being the only child at that point. Axel learned how to be quicker and sneakier than his brother, otherwise he'd be blamed for the trail of mud over the carpets or he'd be left without a brownie to secretly swipe from under their mother's nose. They developed a fairly competitive rivalry over the years, always attempting to outdo each other. Aerith barely tolerated it, but Reno insisted that was how they . . . bonded. _He's a dick._

Roxas barked a laugh and leaned his forehead against Axel's arm as he shook with the force of his giggles.

_No, really, _Axel continued, feeling the need to both justify himself and express his lifelong annoyance with his brother. _That's what he is. He's all dick and no brains – or what's left of his brains exists in his dick._

_He can't be worse than my brother, _Roxas offered, and Axel almost interjected with a curious 'why?' but the blond kept talking. _Tell me about him._

_Ok. Well, he looks just like me, all except for the hair and his tattoos._

_And he's eight years older than you?_

Axel nodded. _He's got this weird mullet sort of thing going on, it's usually in a ponytail. And his tattoos on his cheeks are like this- _he made a curved horizontal motion with his fingers across his cheeks –_rather than mine._

_He sounds like an interesting guy. And if he could still pass for being so young, maybe you will someday as well, _Roxas teased. _The mullet might be a bit much, though._

_He wanted me to bring him back some pot from Amsterdam._

_Are you serious? _Roxas asked through incredulous laughter.

Axel nodded vigorously. _He likes to try and get me in trouble. But I'd get arrested, and I really don't want to try and maneuver the Italian judicial system. Demyx brought some back with him, not sure how exactly he managed it._

_Yes, it's a very risky thing for Americans to do here, _Roxas agreed. _But sometimes very worth it. _Then his eyes narrowed playfully. _He likes getting you into trouble?_

_Yup. Ever since we were kids. He'd nick cupcakes and blame it on me, stuff like that. I learned to do it right back, though. _

Roxas seemed very intrigued by the concept of Axel's family back in the states, and continued the line of questioning about the rest of them until Axel decided to turn the tables. He had a vague idea about what might be Roxas' family from that newspaper article they'd found weeks ago, but otherwise the blond had been extremely tight-lipped about the situation.

_Now, what about you? _Axel asked._ I know you have an older and a younger brother, but you never really talk about the younger one. Why not?_

Instead of answering immediately Roxas stopped and stared, hard, out at the ocean. Finally, when Axel was about to prompt him a second time he spoke up. _He betrayed me, _he said quietly. _He betrayed me, and I'll never forgive him for that._

_What happened? _Axel asked cautiously.

Roxas sighed through his nose. _It is a long story. Kind of melodramatic, too._

_So? Tell me anyway._

_**Promise**__ not to repeat this to anyone?_ the blond demanded emphatically.

_Of course. _

Roxas paused before starting, mouth set in a thin line and brows furrowed as he tried to describe a possibly crazy situation in vocabulary Axel would be able to comprehend. _Ok. Uh, it's like you said, I have an older half-brother and a younger one too. You met Cloud. The other is younger by a year, and that's Sora._

Axel had a sudden recollection of surfing the web and Facebook for Roxas, but finding only a teenage boy with spiky brown hair and eyes very much like Roxas' – his Facebook profile picture taken at a beach, his mouth open as if in the middle of speaking, a girl with dark red hair wearing a bikini kissing his cheek. He'd listed his last name as being the same as Roxas' . . . but his first name, Axel definitely remembered now, had been Sora. Could that really be Roxas' brother?

_Anyway, _Roxas continued, sounding weary, _my mother was actually my father's second wife. Cloud's mother died when he was young, and our father started seeing my mother. They never married though, so that was where a problem started. Cloud is the only legitimate child my father has, but we all lived together early on. Cloud moved here to Rome to attend university, and never really came back. He married Tifa a few years ago. But with Cloud gone Sora and I were left together. It wasn't a bad thing at first, we were pretty close – or at least I thought we were. Then he started confiding in me that he thought about our gardener's son all the time, and that he thought he might really like him. He was worried it was a sin, liking another boy, and asked me if he was going to hell. _

_How old were you guys at this point?_

_I was fourteen, almost fifteen, so he was thirteen. So he was starting to be curious._

_So what did you tell him? _Axel asked seriously. He couldn't imagine Roxas giving his younger brother an affirmative answer to that question.

_I knew I was gay by that point, or at least had a pretty good idea I didn't much like girls. I had my first kiss with a boy at our school, we'd kissed in one of the classrooms after school. So I told him it was ok, and told him about my experiences. He was kind of shocked, but it ended up being ok between us. We were good friends as well as brothers._

_So . . . what happened?_

Roxas paused again, licking his lips nervously. _My father came to visit. He didn't live with us usually, he spent most of his time running between Genoa and Rome, and would visit us when he could. Sora was the apple of his eye, he could do no wrong. Now something – I never figured out what – tipped him off that at least one of his boys liked other guys, and he wasn't happy at all. He thought it was a sin, but that was a lesson we'd both worked hard to ignore. But anyway I came home one night and he was all over me, demanding to know what vile lies I had been planting in my brother's head. He said I would disgrace him and the church I claimed to belong to. He was beating me around, practically chasing me around the house, and Sora just stood there. He wouldn't look at me, not when it was happening and not after. I got so angry, so I threatened to tell people my father was keeping a mistress in our secluded little villa – it would damage his reputation more than discovering one of his illegitimate children was gay. A mistress and two bastard kids? He'd be ruined. My father thought I was bluffing, but the next day I started talking. It was spiteful and horrible, but I did it. _Roxas paused once more, withdrawing his hand from Axel's to cross and rub his leather-clad arms. _Reporters came. Sora knew it was me, and probably told my father as soon as he could. I hurt him too, telling people about it. So I ran away before my father could show up again, took a train to Rome and lived with Cloud. He was married at that point and didn't need me hanging around, so he offered to use the monthly stipend he received from my father – which was bigger now that I was out of the picture – to get me an apartment of my own. I got my roommates together too so it was easier on the rent. And so, here we are._

They had stopped somewhere along the way during Roxas' story; now white noise from the waves consisted of all the sounds between them, the blond standing there stiff and cold now that he was finished. Axel himself felt cold; the whole thing sounded horrible to have to deal with, and we was almost shocked that the article they had found could be traced back to Roxas himself. Axel shifted towards Roxas, arms moving from their static position at his sides to pull the blond into an embrace, only to have Roxas recoil.

_I don't want your pity, _he growled.

Axel invaded his space anyway, muttering _It's not pity, it's just a hug _before pulling Roxas into his arms and just holding him there despite the stiffness in Roxas' body. The redhead kissed him on the cheek, his lips lingering there and begging him to just relax. 'I've got you,' Axel thought and almost said. 'I love you' caught in his throat and never made it to his lips, his heart skipping again and that probably wasn't healthy, all these heart palpitations disrupting blood flow.

Eventually Roxas relaxed, burying his face briefly into the material of Axel's jacket over his heart before reluctantly pulling away. He smiled painfully but shrugged the whole last ten minutes off, looking for another distraction. _Let's go help them get the kite in the air, _he said, grabbing Axel's hand and starting for the other direction.

_By 'help' you mean 'sabotage', right?_ Axel clarified, chuckling at his sudden burst of energy.

_Of course not!_ Roxas protested, but that sly, evil grin was back and Axel knew what his plans entailed. _I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing to my friends, after all._

_I know exactly what you mean._

_We should take off in a little bit, _the blond said abruptly a few moments later._ Go find some dinner, maybe sit out and wait for the sun to rise._

Axel leered. _Sounds like someone's feeling romantic_. This turn of events might just fall in his favor; this could end up being the moment he was waiting for.

_Shh, you're going to ruin my reputation._

_Wouldn't dream of it. _

They stayed at the beach all through the afternoon until the sky started getting darker and they decided it was time to head back into the city. Deciding he didn't really feel like fighting traffic all the way back to Rome, Roxas opted to just take the moped on the train and drive it from there. Luckily the train didn't have many riders, so it wasn't an issue when the old white moped was propped up in front of Roxas, the blond's booted feet up on the leather seat of the vehicle. Roxas was leaning comfortably against Axel, and the redhead was more than ok with this. He figured there was probably an overload of cute going on between them, considering the leaning and the hands folded together on Axel's thigh.

Dinner was at a little pizza place Axel had never been to before, but it was near the train station so it was pretty conveniently placed. They ate and drank their fill, with Axel reminding himself to truly enjoy the food since he wouldn't be able to continue eating after his four weeks were up. Finally as it neared ten they talked about leaving; Roxas was now dead-set on going out to watch the sunrise, while the others were more interested in heading to another bar to watch whatever match was on. So they paid their tab and headed off in their respective directions.

Roxas drove them up to the park on top of the hill overlooking the Vatican and the entire city; even though it was still dark out, the bright night-time lights of the city illuminated enough for Axel to pick out the Vatican, the Victor Emmanuel monument, and Castle Sant'Angelo, among others. He suddenly remembered their drawing instructor had brought their class up here to sketch the city one day, since one could see almost everything. The blond parked the moped up near a tree, and they settled on the rock wall to watch the stars and look out over the city. Axel sat with his legs dangling over the other side of the wall, while Roxas laid against the stones on his back and rested his head in Axel's lap. They chatted quietly, passing the hours and enjoying the cool night breeze and the breathtaking view of the city at nighttime. Occasionally they got distracted by each other's lips and occupied themselves with those activities for a while, but as the hours started climbing towards the sunrise they sat filled with quiet anticipation of the event.

_A perfect night, _Roxas commented a bit later, the words taking shape from a contented sigh. The first glimpses of light on the horizon were just beginning to peak.

Roxas was right, Axel realized. It was a perfect night. The air was cool but comfortable, their stargazing unobscured and undisturbed, and he couldn't complain about the company. Axel felt that incredible swooping sensation in his stomach again, then felt his heart skip a beat; could he tell him? It was a perfect night, maybe this was the perfect moment. Suddenly Axel felt sick, like he was going to vomit spectacularly from the sheer force of his nerves and fear and hit the Pope and get himself banned from Rome. Axel wanted to say it right, wanted to get it perfect. He felt oddly overwhelmed, by this new sensation of really and truly falling hard for this boy, and the fear – the nerves threatening to stop all heart and brain function on the spot. All this made Axel feel a bit silly; he knew Roxas cared about him, maybe even loved him too, enough that he enjoyed Axel's company more than others and seemed willing to be more forgiving if Axel was involved as well. The swell in his heart when he thought about all this clicked in his mind for what might've been the hundredth time: he wanted this to last forever.

Small rays of light began prickling over the horizon, soft yellows falling over the edges of the city to the east. It was one of the most beautiful sights Axel had seen in his entire life.

He looked down and saw a hand clasped within his, and the look of extraordinary wonder on Roxas' face.

Yes, his heart and mind sang, all to the furious pounding beat of his heart. It resonated in his bones and in his blood, and maybe this was why people used to say that all roads led to Rome. This was it. He'd been studying, memorizing the correct way to say it, and now it was time he was able to tell Roxas exactly what had been on his mind since Amsterdam.

As the sun continued its slow ascent over the edges of the city, Axel swallowed, bit his lip . . . opened his mouth and took a small, shuddering breath before he spoke.

_I love you._

Roxas stilled and turned his gaze upwards to furrow his brow at the redhead. "Huh?"

Axel cleared his throat again, heart pounding erratically in his ears. He repeated what he had said, as Roxas slowly rose to a sitting position and twisted around to look at him.

As the words sank in, the blond stiffened and pulled away abruptly.

Roxas stared at him in silence, eyes wide, his face cast in shadow as the sun continued its slow ascension. Axel watched as he swallowed uncomfortably and set his mouth in a firm line. _What did you say?_ he asked, voice sounding shaky and unsure.

Well now Axel was scared shitless. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? "Ti voglio bene." _I love you._

Axel had barely gotten the words out before Roxas twisted himself back over the rock wall and started stalking towards the moped, parked under a bunch of trees.

"What the – Roxas!" Axel shouted, pulling himself back over the wall and after the blond, his long legs taking him further and allowing him to catch up. _What did I - _ he began to ask, but was cut off when a fist collided with his jaw. Which for the record, since Roxas had a killer right hook, fucking hurt. Axel recovered quickly, though. "What the hell!" he demanded, his hand coming up to assess the damage to his cheek. "What the hell was that for?"

Roxas, for his part, was standing not two feet away now, his hands curled in fists as he seethed. _Do you even know what you're saying?_

_Yes! _Axel said forcefully. _Yes, I do! I thought . . . I thought it was a good thing._

Roxas gave a roar of frustration and anger, rather than the more pleasant reaction Axel had hoped for. _How can you say that?_

Axel blanched, unsure what to do with that question. _Because I do, _he said quietly, _and I've been trying to find the right time to tell you – _

_There is no right time! _Roxas cut him off, his expression murderous now. _I'd rather never hear it! _Then the blond wheeled around, fumbling with his helmet and not even bothering with the clasp as he mounted the bike. _It ends now._

Well that hit Axel like a speeding semi. _Woah, wait – Roxas – _he said as he reached out to touch his – former? – lover.

Roxas recoiled spectacularly and smacked his hand away. Expression still murderous. _Don't touch me. _He revved up the engine on the bike and sped away without a second glance, leaving Axel alone on the hill, a beautiful sunrise gone unnoticed in the background; leaving Axel alone, with a cancerous emptiness growing deep in his chest, and the near certainty of Roxas' absence for the rest of his time in Rome. Alone, and wondering how the three most heartfelt and honest words he might've ever uttered could have brought him to this.

*keyboard SMASH* ok now, off to visit the Wife & Mistress before I get BBS. I hope you all stay with me Still four more chapters to go~


	10. Track 9: So What

Title: Moped Romance [9/12]  
Pairing: Axel/Roxas

Warnings: Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene, minor violence. Axel's subconscious, some … different pairings?  
Rating: R.  
Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
A/N: Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, P!nk.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter: **After a trip to Florence a heartbroken Axel seeks Roxas out to mend their relationship, only to find that Roxas has different ways of dealing with the situation.

**Author's Note:** I hope you all had wonderful holidays! Now here's a present 3 I mentioned to a reviewer that Roxas is the one you should really watch out for. Well, now you'll see why. The claws are coming out, folks. Also, the song playing in Qube when Axel walks in is "Fire Burning" by Sean Kingston. Trust me. Also: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ;A; But! After a semester of grad school and one close call with a havoc-wreaking computer virus, here it is.

**Cultural notes: **

~ the Duomo: .org/wiki/Duomo_of_Florence see this link

~ The earthquake in l'Aquila was an actual event; I woke up to tremors in the middle of the night, and sleepily thought my muse had broken into my apartment and was sitting on my bed, shaking it. It wasn't until we went to class the next morning that we heard what had really happened. Aftershocks continued several weeks later. .?iref=allsearch

~ American University of Rome: founded in 1969, a very small school with classes taught in English specializing in International Studies/Relations.

Track 9 – So What

_I guess I just lost my husband_

_I don't know where he went_

_So I'm gonna drink my money_

_I'm not gonna pay his rent_

_I've got a brand new attitude_

_And I'm gonna wear it tonight_

_I'm gonna get in trouble_

_I wanna start a fight_

_So what? I'm still a rock star_

_I got my rock movies_

_And I don't need you_

_And guess what, I'm having' more fun_

_And now that we're done_

_I'm gonna show you tonight_

_I'm alright, I'm just fine_

_And you're a tool, so_

There was an emptiness, a hollow, cavernous maw eating away at Axel from the inside that he just could not shake for the life of him. He couldn't even begin to comprehend its depths, so vast it was like a void pressing in all around him. Axel felt like he was waking from the most colorful and lifelike dream and being shoved back into monotonous reality not even a change of scenery (trading in the familiar haunts and bustling streets of Rome for the tourist-saturated alleys of Florence) could fix.

He'd ended up walking to Larxene's apartment after Roxas left him on the hill overlooking the city, Roxas' enraged expression and stinging words seared behind his eyes and into his memory, not to mention his jaw. By the time he got there people were starting to move around a bit more, and the buses had started up too. Axel had almost considered buzzing Larxene's apartment (Xion would answer, she was closest to the front door) to be let in, but decided against it. There were a few bus stops near their apartment considering they lived three blocks from one of the tourist hubs in the city, so he made his way there. After being awake the whole night and walking for half of it his feet had begun to drag right beneath him, and the arrival of the first bus headed in the direction of his school apartment had been more than welcome.

Once he'd arrived back at that apartment, he noticed two things: that everyone was gone, and that he was forgetting something very important.

The study abroad group – Axel included – was supposed to be heading to Florence that day. So Axel threw whatever he could in the duffel bag not currently residing in Roxas' apartment and ran to take a last-minute shower. He just barely made it to the meeting point – a stop all the way at the end of the northern end of the red line – before the bus left without him. Demyx had given him a questioning look but allowed Axel to sleep for the remainder of the journey.

"Snap out of it man," Demyx said tiredly. "This is getting really old."

After checking in at the hotel, Axel had discovered that Demyx and Lex had been assigned as his roommates; the redhead had spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, answering Demyx's questions about what had happened dully. Everyone else had hit the streets of Florence to explore and go out to eat; Axel had no interest or energy.

"Fuck you, man," Axel muttered wearily. Going on only the tiniest amount of sleep, Axel was pissed and ready to snap. The bruise – courtesy of Roxas and his killer right hook, thank you very much – on his jaw certainly wasn't helping; it hurt like a bitch, but not nearly as much as the cracks in his heart did.

"Axel, do you know where we are?" Demyx suddenly demanded sharply, sitting up on his bed and glaring at his best friend.

"If I remember correctly, Florence," Axel responded just as testily. "If you have a point, I suggest you make it."

"Oh really, Florence, huh? Tell me Axel, when do you think you're ever going to be able to experience a place like this again?"

"Come again?"

"We're in fucking _Florence,_ man! Go out, get up close and personal with David's dick, go shopping, climb the dome, see this place. It's amazing. When do you think you're ever going to experience it like this again?"

Axel shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"Right. And if you're going to waste this trip away moping and generally making an ass of yourself on Roxas' account, I don't think you've really learned that much from him. It's about the experience, and if you don't take advantage of this you're going to be sorry in the end. Get out of here, go see the Medici palace. Eat one of those," Demyx waved his hand vaguely as he searched for the right phrase, "Florentine intestine sandwiches I saw earlier. Then report back."

"And why exactly am I being chosen as taste-tester?"

"You ate horse pizza."

"That was an anomaly."

"Do it! But … take a shower, first. You smell like ocean, petrol and BO. Not exactly the winning combination. "

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

Demyx gave him a thumbs-up. "Any time."

After a quick shower Axel did eventually venture out into the tourist-congested streets of Florence, exploring and getting his bearings, picking out certain things he wanted to do over the next two days before they left for Rome. That first afternoon he did not try the 'Florentine intestine sandwich' as requested, but managed to find a small bar not overrun by tourists to sit with some espresso and think.

Dinner was at a pizzeria around the corner from their hotel; Demyx and a few of the others were planning on heading out to find some place to drink and dance a little later in the night, but Axel declined. After two Peronis at the pizzeria and given his current state of mind, he just wanted to relax for a bit.

Ultimately Axel found the countless merchant stalls to be somewhat distracting to his heartache. He finally bought gifts for his family and friends to take home; scarves, leather wallets and belts, knock-off Murano glass, even a pair of handmade leather sandals for his mother were purchased – Axel was sure that by now his bank account would be looking pretty scarce.

His mood had even improved enough that Demyx decided he could put up with Axel long enough to take him up to the top of the Duomo, a relatively arduous journey up several winding, circular stone staircases and countless actual steps. The trip turned more harrowing as vertigo started to set in; making their way along a walkway suspended several stories within the church itself, close to the interior of the dome and extremely high up set several people on edge. As they got higher and higher the spaces they walked got more cramped, and people heading back _down_ caused more than a few problems. Axel and Demyx got to the point where they were hunching over due to the low ceiling and having to lean against what amounted to the outer part of the interior dome – they were more or less walking between two domes, meant to support the structure and keep it from collapsing.

"I curse the name of Brunelleschi," Zexion grumbled. "Fucking steps." He was probably still dizzy from the circular staircases.

"Just imagine," Axel said cavalierly, "how many hundreds of thousands of people do this every day. All of them leaning on the inner dome, hundreds of feet over the floor. How long do you think it'll be before the dome starts to crack?" he ventured curiously.

Zexion stopped, turning and glaring over his shoulder. "You are a cruel, cruel man Axel. I curse you too."

Axel shrugged. "Actually, I'm pretty sure this is all Demyx's fault – I think he's trying to kill us with vertigo."

"No, only torture you like you've been doing to us for the last two days."

"Gee Demyx, I didn't know I was such a burden," Axel rolled his eyes.

"Well man, your attitude sucked," Demyx huffed, rounding the corner. "I get that Roxas dumped you, but weren't we all saying all along that that would happen? Or at least something along those lines?"

"It wasn't just that, Dem," Axel said. "I thought maybe he felt the same way, that it was mutual. I'd been watching him for a while, it seemed like that was what we were heading towards. Maybe we could've worked something out, kept in touch, visit each other. It wouldn't be the best, but it would be something."

"Do you think you might have read into it too much?" Zexion asked bluntly.

Axel shook his head shortly. "I still think there's something. He felt too close to not feel the same."

Zexion shrugged. "Maybe you're right. But if you're right, and I'm not saying you necessarily are, then I can't blame him for doing what he did."

Axel scowled, cursing the existence of fucking psych majors and quickly changed the subject. "This better be fucking worth it," he groused.

Two minutes later: "Holy fucking _shit,_" Zexion breathed, halfway between reverence and horror.

They were minutes away from finally making it to the top of the dome; after at least forty five minutes of mind-numbing circular stairs, claustrophobia-inducing spaces, dark pathways, and more recently the people trying to cram themselves through going the opposite direction, and the only obstacle in their path now was a set of unbelievably steep steps built into the dome.

For someone Axel's height with his long legs, foot-tall steps were a little on the obnoxious side, but doable. For someone petite like Zexion – this would be hilarious.

"We've made it this far!" Demyx chuckled encouragingly. "We bested the Florentine Stairmaster!"

"Demyx is right, I want the fruits of my labor!" Axel joined in.

Zexion grumbled something under his breath and started up the steps, leaning down so he wouldn't hit his head. Demyx and Axel followed a few minutes later and fought their way up the ladder to the lantern near the top of the dome.

The fresh air and light hit him first; having been travelling though dark, claustrophobic spaces for the better part of an hour now they were more than welcome. Then, as he stepped up onto the platform Axel had only seconds to process just how high they were above the city of Florence before he was pushed by someone behind him. "Hold your freakin' horses," he muttered, moving out of the way and closer to the rail.

The view was almost too encompassing; it sent little jolts of fear up his spine, needling thoughts of _don't get too close you'll fall_ and the feeling of his stomach moving into his chest cavity, like when you're at the high point of a roller coaster poised on the precipice of a steep drop and your body is just _waiting_ for it to happen. Two hundred and ninety-five feet above the ground, Axel felt like he could probably see everything. It was a clear day, if a little misty, and from Axel's point of view the countryside, miles beyond the city itself, was visible. There were mountains off on another side, dressed in the sheer white dewiness of cloud and dotted with little villages. With the wind whipping in his face Axel slowly started to move around the lantern platform, even daring to get closer to the railing to look down over the rounded dome, tourists and Florentines like tiny ants scurrying around hundreds of feet below.

When he leaned out a bit farther Axel suddenly pulled himself back as vertigo pulled at his stomach and made him dizzy; it was almost like a power trip, being so high and standing atop a building that was hundreds of years old. Yet he also felt strangely vulnerable. One push, one solid gust of wind could send him over the rail and plummeting to his inescapable death. Axel wondered if that had ever happened to some poor dick. Could have been one hell of a mob hit.

"See?" Demyx shouted over the wind and other tourists. "Totally worth the Schwarzenegger calves later."

"I'll say." Axel firmly denied the presence of any awe or wonder in his tone at all later, but standing there on what felt like the top of the world, he felt perfectly at east to simply take it in. Words were tawdry and feeble, and could never hope to even approach a description of the panorama that did it justice.

All too soon the outlook was getting crowded; Axel found the other guys before they began the descent, which he would have argued was just as treacherous if not more so since it was difficult to gauge now steep some of the stairs were, and one seemed to gain momentum going down the spiral stone steps.

After a bit of lunch Axel parted ways with Demyx and Zexion, since they were all headed out in different directions to complete assignments and see the city. The afternoon found Axel headed out for another expedition, this time to the Pitti Palace; part of their combined sketchbook art/architecture class involved heading to one of the museums in Florence and just looking around, sketching things that caught their eye.

Axel checked his cell phone for the third time and sighed; he'd sent messages to Pence and Olette a while ago, hoping to gauge their responses for what was going on back in Rome. So far neither of them had answered his messages. The redhead frowned deeply and turned the phone off, stuffing it in his pocket.

A little bit later, while he was sitting in the gardens sketching, the phone started buzzing in his pocket. Axel veritably jumped in his seat, upending his various sketching supplies in the process as he went for the device, his heart beating a harsh staccato in his throat. _Roxas, let it be Roxas – Olette, Pence, one of them, please, pleasepleaseplease-_

It was Demyx. 'Going out for dinner in a bit. In?'

Axel let out a sigh, his mouth twisting a little as his heart fell back into place. 'Sure,' he typed back.

He was packing up his supplies when the second message came. 'Hotel in half/hour?' Axel sent off an affirmative and started heading for the exit; it was a bit of a trek back to the hotel from the Pitti Palace. Axel checked his phone one last time to make sure Roxas or Olette hadn't sent him anything, wondering why he was punishing himself with this. He knew in his gut that Roxas wasn't going to make the call or write him an apology or explanation, and neither would Olette or Pence. There wasn't much else for Axel to do other than to find Roxas himself and try to talk with him on his own terms.

When Axel stepped out onto the floor of Qube, he had only one thing on his mind: to find Roxas and try to talk with him. He wasn't sure why he was so sure Roxas was in the club – the chances were alright, but his own certainty was overwhelming. Roxas was here, and something was going to happen.

Qube was dark, the grinding and sweaty bodies populating the dance floor only briefly illuminated in flashes thanks to the multicolored strobe lights. Axel picked his way through them towards the center, closer to the stage, ignoring the fact that every person he moved past had no face at all.

Suddenly, the fast-moving strobes stopped, and the bodies – fuzzy, Axel vision was sort of blurry, did he have absinthe before leaving? – slowed down until they almost weren't moving. The strobes tilted down, focusing in on Axel and the empty circle he was standing in. He thought vaguely about Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, and if this was the hundred or the million dollar question and if he already used the 'phone a friend' lifeline.

"Have you ever been in love?" Xion's voice piped up, causing Axel to twist around wildly. He found the sophomore standing behind him a few feet away, looking at him seriously with bright blue eyes and shifting foot to foot, fists stuffed into the deep pockets of her cardigan. "Horrible, isn't it?" she answered with relish before Axel could say anything, as if they were sharing in a common hatred of something.

Axel frowned deeply. This was wrong. So he voiced his thoughts. "This is wrong."

"Is it?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah, how did-" Axel trailed off when he noticed Olette, also on the outskirts of his circle, dressed in her favorite orange top, khakis, and dancing shoes. Upon seeing that his attention had turned to her, she straightened and held up two books, one in each hand. "Olette?" Axel asked, a bit nervous about the books she was wielding.

"The Encyclopedia Galactica," she started, hefting one to indicate her subject, "in its chapter on 'love' states that it is far too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," she hefted the other, and Axel could clearly see the big friendly letters spelling out 'DON'T PANIC' on the cover, _what the fuck was going on?_, "has this to say on the subject of love: avoid," she said, her voice and expression turning hard, "if at all possible."

Axel paused to let this sink in. "Am I high?" he asked, arms out in supplication for any explanation.

"Nope." This time it was Xigbar's voice, accompanied by the distinct sound of teeth crunching into an apple's flesh. Axel turned and frowned at his roommate, who was now chewing a generous mouthful of apple. "Just crazy," he offered.

Axel looked sharply back towards Xion, who shrugged noncommittally. "Thanks, I feel better already," Axel rolled his eyes at the business-suit-clad senior.

"Hey, don't blame me. Why the fuck would I be in your stinking dream if that wasn't the case?"

"Point taken."

"Oh wait, I feel something philosophical and poetic coming up," Xigbar said, then made a wretching sound. "Better to have loved and lost," he croaked, "than never to have loved at all." Moments later the man grimaced. "Gonna go wash my mouth out with soap, thanks."

"Be my guest," Axel said.

"Why love if losing hurts so much?" This time Axel's attention was brought to Demyx, inexplicably dressed as a hippie with leather fringe and little circular pink glasses, strumming halfheartedly on a guitar.

"Do you want me to answer that?"

"We love," Demyx said pointedly, expression oddly soulful. "To know that we are not alone."

"So. You're all freaking me out. What's with all the love philosophy?"

"You're the puppet master," Xion said, tone awestruck but matter-of-fact. "I don't know Neil Gaiman quotes off the top of my head."

"You know," another familiar voice said pointedly and rather distastefully, "listen up." Axel followed the voice to find Larxene, her arms crossed sternly over her chest and her leather jacket pulled taut at the position. "The demand to be loved is the greatest of all arrogant presumptions."

"You would quote Nietzsche," Axel snorted. Larxene shrugged.

Suddenly there her hands on his biceps turning him around; Axel was now face to face with Margherita, except sans makeup, wig, and lacy skirt. "Where there is love," Margherita intoned patiently and in perfect English, voice deeper than Axel remembered. "There is pain."

"Sounds swell."

"Axel."

The redhead turned to look for the source of Zexion's voice, but jumped at what he saw. A figure, clearly Zexion based solely on the hair, clad in a suit composed completely of Kermit the Frog plushies and ridiculously pink sunglasses, stood before him. There was glitter in his hair in streaks, and freakishly tall boots on his feet, bringing him up to Axel's height.

Zexion hated Lady Gaga, more than Axel could ever express.

Ok. If Axel was iffy earlier, he couldn't deny it any longer: this was definitely a dream.

"The gospel according to Godga," Zexion intoned as if preparing to read from sacred scripture, adjusting the rhinestone-bedazzled glasses and clearing his throat, glittering purple lips pursing, "clearly states: Russian roulette is not the same without a gun. But when it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun."

Oh God.

The club had started spinning, the atmosphere seeming to collapse in on Axel as his head jerked to follow voices. Marluxia was there, performing a Disney medley involving "A Whole New World" and the love theme from The Lion King 2. Xigbar blew a noisemaker at him. Demyx was warbling something or other.

Axel tore away from them, breaking into the unmoving crowd and heading for the bar. Hunched over against the cold wood of the bar, Axel took note of the innocent-looking hourglass among the glass tumblers and Collins glasses. When the lower torso of the bartender moved into his line of sight Axel slid several Euro bills across the wooden surface. "Campari on the rocks." When the bartender didn't move, Axel looked up, jaw dropping slightly.

"Goodbye," Roxas said, clearly and coldly, his eyes looking lifeless. "Because I love you." Then with one hand he put the red drink Axel had requested on the bar, and with the other he picked the hourglass up and placed it right next to the drink. Without blinking Roxas grasped them both again and upended them, sand funneling through the hourglass at an alarming pace while Axel's drink spilled out onto the countertop, red liquor soaking the dark wood. Axel watched for a few seconds as the sand continued to filter through.

"You do?" Axel asked, looking up again to find the area behind the bar completely empty. He stood, feeling rather unsteady on his feet, looking around the club cautiously. "Roxas?" he called. "Demyx?" Everything was completely still; there wasn't even so much as an echo when Axel called his friends' names. The club was eerily silent. "Roxas?" Axel called even louder. Only a low rumble answered him, followed closely by a shaking floor. In fact, the whole club was shaking, the lights blinking as they swung from the ceiling. The pillars cracking and stage were collapsing. Then the lights went dark, and Axel realized he must have fallen because the pit of his stomach clenched and he was sprawled on the ground – no, it was too soft to be the club floor, his face was pressed against something warm and soft, tiny hairs tickling his nose.

His own arm?

Axel blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut again and groaned, slowly waking to find his own face pressed into his arm and pillow; groggy and still faintly panicking that the earthquake from his dream had followed him into reality, his eyes flying around the room wildly and uselessly – it was pitch dark in the club, there was nothing to see. Everything was rattling though, Axel could hear the glasses on the bar jittering around on the table beside him.

"It's just an aftershock," he heard Demyx say, noticing the nervousness in his tone. "We'll be fine."

Axel opened both eyes at that. The glass of water on his nightstand – wait, weren't they in Qube? – was shaking along with the table, the liquid inside sloshing around and splashing droplets on the wood, vaguely illuminated by the courtyard light from outside their window.

Hotel room. Florence. Aftershocks. Right.

The earthquake had hit l'Aquila a few weeks ago, sending the first shockwaves all across central Italy; Axel had been woken at three AM to the shaking floor of Roxas' room, the window panes rattling violently and dangerously a few feet away. And Roxas, the deep sleeper who could probably snore his way through a marching band concert in his room, was practically plastered to Axel's side, rigid and tense with his arms wrapped around Axel's waist tightly, face buried between Axel's shoulder blades. He'd held him like that until the shockwave passed, before the blond shook it off like it had never happened the next morning. Until they had walked out to the kitchen to see the other three gathered around the little TV, watching the breaking news about the earthquake. _We all live so precariously,_ Olette had said, watching the rescue crew transport a twisted, hidden body; Roxas held him a little tighter that night, and all Axel had wanted to say was 'don't let go.'

Axel threw his brain a mental middle finger at the recollection of that particular memory. What was a vicious punch to the gut, a stabbing in his chest compared to that pain? He tensed and breathed very carefully through his nose, trying to calm himself before the pain escaped him audibly.

Think about something else, the dream, what the hell was that dream all about? Axel closed his eyes and concentrated again, recalling various images from the quickly fading dream.

Zexion in a Lady GaGa costume … that made him shudder just a little. Why.

Why.

He remembered little things here and there, the club and seeing his friends appear around him … and Roxas, a bartender, and

_Goodbye, because I love you._

Fucking freshman English class, why on earth would he pick out _The Awakening_ of all things. Axel frowned as he tried to reassemble the rest of it. It seemed almost completely nonsensical to him, a bad acid trip or maybe a really good batch of space cake Demyx secretly fed him, that almost seemed to fit for him. The only thing that stood out for him – other than Zexion's GaGa garb because seriously, what the fuck – was Roxas, the overturned drink, and the sand quickly slipping away.

Axel's frown deepened exponentially. He didn't need a dream dictionary to figure that one out. Time was slipping away, yes, with about three weeks left before their planes left Fiumicino for the states. It wasn't much time, Axel realized, but he had a choice about what he wanted to do with the last few weeks of his study abroad and who he spent it with.

He just had to hope Roxas would allow Axel's presence in his vicinity.

The bus ride back from Florence saw Axel sitting pensively in his seat, plotting out his next move and trying to determine the best course of action that didn't involve Roxas probably dislocating his jaw. Of course, Roxas did still have some of Axel's stuff in his room. His laptop and books were kind of necessary to finish up the semester, so Axel hoped that at least he'd get his belongings back – then he could make his move from there. So when the bus dropped them off in front of the school building in the late afternoon, Axel waved away offers for dinner and alcohol and headed out in the direction of Roxas' apartment.

Frown settling in on his face, Axel took the buses that got him closer to Roxas' apartment building then walked the rest of the way. Axel figured it was a testament not only to how much more comfortable he was with the city but also to Roxas' help in understanding the winding alleys and connected roads that he actually made it there without much help. Though being that he practically lived there for a short period, the number of times he'd been there probably didn't hurt in learning the route. After a bit of searching – he was used to Roxas simply driving them up to the main door – he found the elaborately-decorated portal. With no key and no one appearing to be coming or going quite yet, Axel had only one choice left: he pressed the buzzer, looking pleadingly into the little camera that would show who the caller was to the buzzed apartment.

When no answer came through after several minutes, Axel pressed the buzzer again and checked his watch. It was well after three, so Roxas should be back from school now. If he was even at his apartment, that was, which with every passing second seemed more and more unlikely. Axel pressed the buzzer a third time groaning, "Come on Roxas. Just fucking answer, please."

The speaker system crackled with static for a moment, startling Axel out of his concentration.

_Go away before I call the police,_ the voice Axel immediately recognized as Hayner's grumbled. _You're annoying._

_Is he up there?_ Axel asked, ignoring Hayner's threats. _I just want to talk with him._

_You really should leave now, _Hayner said with finality.

_My stuff is up there_, Axel reasoned wearily. _Can I at least get my things?_

A long pause on the other end made Axel feel more uneasy. _Come back later_, Hayner said dismissively before the system went quiet again.

_Are you serious?_ Axel demanded. _It's just a backpack._

There were sounds of scuffling from the other side of the microphone; Axel clearly heard Olette growl at Hayner _it's just his fucking backpack, stop being a little bitch _before Hayner, clearly disgruntled acquiesced. _I'll bring it down,_ he said wearily.

About ten minutes later the door was heaved open; however instead of Hayner it was Pence holding Axel's stuffed backpack and giving him a small, neutral smile. He handed the backpack over silently; then he said, a little sheepishly, _Sorry about him. He's … well, he's kind of angry._

_I gathered, _Axel said darkly. _I didn't mean to-_ he started, only to have Pence cut him off.

_It's not my place, man. I'm not going to get involved,_ Pence said simply, shrugging slightly.

Axel nodded grimly. _Thanks anyway._

Pence nodded in return. _See you around_, he said encouragingly, then closed the door behind him.

Axel put his hands in his pockets and set out again, this time back to his apartment, his jaw set in a firm determined line to find the blond and talk with him.

It wasn't until he got back to his apartment and started unloading his backpack when he realized something was missing.

"That little fucker," Axel seethed, still had his Supernatural season 3 DVDs.

Once class was over the next morning, Axel set out; he figured it might be a long shot, trying to find Roxas on a school day – but he had to give it a go, no one was answering his texts.

He checked in at Cloud's bar first since it was closest to the school, and the reception he received put him on extreme edge. Tifa was manning the bar, talking with a younger customer; he was shorter than her by a foot or so, with a head full of brown spiky hair who didn't turn around when Axel entered. She looked up when the door bell chimed, and Tifa's face went from expectant and happy to flat and enraged in mere milliseconds. Axel ran before the _cornetto_ projectile hit the glass door.

_Shit._

Via del Corso was next; tourists were starting to crowd the ever-popular street, the spring being one of the busier times of the year for Rome as far as tourism went. Even so, there was no blasting music for him to follow, no dancers carving out a tourist and pedestrian-free zone in the squares. Axel even checked in Others, and though GianCarlo and Lorenzo gave him a pretty warm welcome they had no information on where Roxas might be, other than his apartment.

Axel considered scouting the Borghese Gardens for a bit since it had been one of their favorite places to picnic and horrify little old couples with public displays of affection – but its sheer vastness was a daunting fact that kept him from venturing in. Coming Out was open but rather empty, and Axel didn't know where Roxas' school was so that was out of the question. The chances that Roxas was just hiding out in his apartment (watching Supernatural) were stacking up; the hundreds of thousands of people who had poured into the city for Holy Week weren't helping in the slightest.

After exhausting nearly every other option available Axel paid a visit to Le Montecarlo, hoping that maybe Roxas would be working. Putting his height advantage to good use Axel searched the main rooms from the entryway, though he could not find Roxas. Instead he recognized one of the servers as a friend of the blond's and waved, getting his attention. "Vaan," he called out, annoyance bubbling up when he saw the frustrated expression on the young man's face as he reluctantly made his way over to him.

_You should stop looking for him,_ Vaan said immediately, brushing dirty blond bangs out of his eyes. _He's not going to see you, Roxas is done with you._

_I need to talk with him, _Axel continued doggedly. _I want to talk this out._

_Roxas isn't going to let that happen. It's over._

_Why the fuck do you keep saying that?_

Vaan shrugged. _Look man, all I know is he was really angry when he was in last week. Nearly beheaded some customers when he threw their platters at them. That's Roxas holding it in, what do you think he's going to do to you? You'd be shish kabob man, let him cool off._

_I don't think what I said is anything to get killed for._

Vaan stared. _You're American, but I know you're not stupid – Roxas wouldn't put up with you if that was the case. Figure it out._

Axel narrowed his eyes. _My being American has nothing to do with this. _

_Sure it does, _Vaan said tiredly. _You may walk, talk, eat and live like an Italian, but that's all a lie. You being American is important, you can't stay here running wild forever_. _Italy is like . . . a summer fling. You have fun while you can because once the summer is over you will never see that person again._

_Waxing philosophical now, aren't you, _Axel said acidly.

_I speak the truth, _Vaan snapped, apparently growing impatient. _The chances of you ever returning to Italy, and therefore seeing Roxas after you leave, are slim. And you have the balls to want something more out of that relationship? You don't get to ask for that._

_I don't know what I was asking for, _Axel said miserably. _I just don't see it as a bad thing._

_Everything he has ever loved has deserted him in the past,_ Vaan said bluntly. _And you will do the same._ With that he turned and headed back into the boisterous dining room, leaving Axel in the entryway of the restaurant until he turned around and left. It was getting late, and Axel was starting to figure Roxas was probably hiding out in his room so Axel could never find him – obviously his friends knew Axel was looking for him, they'd give him the heads up so he could take cover.

Tuesday was the last day of Axel's architecture class. More definite proof that the semester was quickly drawing to a close frustrated him, but still made Axel look at his surroundings, at the scenery he passed every day either on foot or by bus a little harder, sketching it into his memory.

Axel was cooking dinner when he heard his cell chirp Tuesday afternoon. After turning the heat down on the stove he darted into his room, pulling the cell phone from the pocket of a pair of jeans. A brief glance at the screen revealed that the caller was Olette.

Olette, who hadn't returned his calls or messages – like Roxas and the others – since that night, which had only been a few days ago, but still.

Axel clicked the 'accept' button and put the phone to his ear. "Olette?" he said, voice dry.

He heard her swallow on the other end of the line. "Axel."

"You, uh. You get my message?" Well, plural, but he wasn't going to say that.

"No," she answered shortly. "Listen. You should stop this. It's not healthy."

"I just want to talk with him. I love him, Olette." Axel could almost see her wince at that.

"He's not," she broke off, sounding uncomfortable. "You don't want to play this game with him right now. He's … Axel, he's very combative if you push him too far. He's already angry."

"Where is he, Olette," Axel said, his tone hardening.

She paused again, then seemed to resign. "Muca. Qube. Or he will be later, I don't know where he is now."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Thank you, Olette."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I'm still really not sure this is the best idea. I don't know whether to be worried about you …. or him."

"I won't hurt him."

"You don't understand," Olette pleaded. "If you do this, you will."

Axel made a defensive gesture, tensing up and ready to argue, before he abandoned it. "Please trust me, Olette."

Olette was silent again for a few moments; Axel could see her chewing on her lip in his mind's eye, glaring up at the ceiling while she tried to decide whether she believed him or not. "You are my friend too, and I know how you feel. But right now, it is not a good time to do this."

"There's never a good time," Axel muttered. Then he cleared his throat. "Don't worry, ok? It'll be fine."

Olette licked her lips and murmured a quiet agreement a moment later. "I will talk with you later," she said, then hung up.

Axel felt the smallest twinge of déjà vu as he walked into Qube; the dream still relatively vivid in his mind, Axel hoped it didn't end that way. The situation already felt slightly surreal since he'd managed to make it to the Pyramide stop and to the club itself without needing much assistance other than from a taxi driver, but Axel felt like he was comfortable enough with the city that he couldn't just attribute it to luck. He hadn't even really felt like dressing up for the club, so he left the apartment in the jeans that Roxas coerced him to buy and a simple short sleeve shirt with his leather jacket. Axel didn't really expect this to be a sexy outing, anyway.

The club was just as crowded as ever, and maybe it was just him but no one seemed to be behaving as predatory – or at least outwardly. The DJ was playing some song he hadn't heard, but some paranoid part of his brain thought maybe it was warning him. _'Somebody call 9-1-1_' indeed, Axel thought apprehensively, the Latin dance beat picking the dancers up again with renewed vigor. Axel found it hard to pick out the lyrics, he had to focus on finding Roxas – if he was even here, if Olette wasn't lying to him.

As the beat pounded through the speakers all around the club, Axel began his search for Roxas. The bar area was packed, but there were no petite blonds to match his description sufficiently; after a bit of fruitless searching Axel decided to just head up to the balcony area – at least from there he would have a much broader view of the club. Unfortunately, trying to pick Roxas out from above was near impossible as well, the strobe lights were fleeting over people's heads at a rate too fast to really catch anything.

Fuck this, Axel thought, and descended the stairs to check the more private rooms. He wasn't even going to try looking on the second black-lit floor of the club.

After pushing though several groups of dancers Axel roamed into the corner of the club, where couches were set up in smaller more private rooms - and that was where he finally saw him.

Or rather, where he saw the back of him, since Roxas was currently straddling another guy's lap, his back to Axel and his face intimately involved in the other's. There was a large hand tucked into the back pocket of Roxas' jeans, squeezing as the blond repositioned himself, and another hand tangled in Roxas' hair, guiding the deep kiss. Shell-shocked for a moment, Axel caught himself absently admiring the solid muscles of Roxas' shoulders, the slender curve of his back, and felt sick to his stomach. Just then someone jostled past him, knocking Axel out of his reverie; Roxas rose from his position and pulled his partner up before dragging him out onto the dance floor.

Axel realized bitterly how voyeuristic this was, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He remembered dancing with Roxas on many occasions, molding his body to the blond's and sliding his hands over Roxas' sides, settling them at his hips as they moved, bodies oscillating all around them. It progressed so easily in his mind to sex, and having sex with Roxas, sweat-slick bodies moving against each other to their own rhythm. Axel swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, as he watched Roxas smirk and grind back against his new dance partner, heart thudding in his throat.

Sometime later - Axel lost track as he watched them practically fuck on the dance floor – Roxas pulled away, hand placed intimately on the other man's chest as he whispered something in his ear. With a chuckle Roxas headed for the bar, the other man's hand lingering in his as if they'd be loath to part.

Eyes narrowing, Axel started making his way through the dancing crowd to intercept the blond.

Roxas noticed his presence and trajectory as he got closer; his face fell and the smile withdrew, all in the few seconds before Roxas changed direction to avoid Axel. The redhead was close enough though, and shouted his name, but Roxas kept going. As he caught up again Axel reached out for the blond's retreating form, only to have his hand pushed off course.

"Hey! Hold on now," Axel shouted, frustrated and annoyed at the treatment.

Roxas shoved Axel again and darted away; Axel almost lost him amid the pillars and more private rooms to the rear of Qube, but the strobe light catching his blond hair made it marginally easier. The redhead pursued him doggedly, finally cornering him in an empty, low-lit room. Roxas' back was to him, his entire body tensed and ready to spring as he took soothing breaths.

_Come on Roxas, don't be like this. Can we just talk? _he asked, reaching out for the blond's hand.

Roxas whirled and smacked Axel's hand away, shouting "No!" His hands balled into tight fists and squeezed. _No, we can't. Leave me alone._

_Please, _Axel ground out desperately. _Just listen-_

_No! I am done listening, I've heard enough. Maybe you should be the one listening, I told you we were through!_

_Why? _Block and evade, counter and attack – was this really what they'd come to? The rest of the club's shouting and heavy music was only white noise now.

_Typical American, _Roxas sneered, seething. _'No' is never a good enough answer, you just force the issue and force it until someone gives you the answer you want to hear. No, not me. I'm not yours Axel, get __**that**__ memorized._

Axel was momentarily stung as his own joking phrase was thrown back at him, before he recovered and narrowed his eyes. _Fuck you, my being American has nothing to do with this. This is about us-_

_It has everything to do! _Roxas – he roared, and Axel realized that he'd never heard Roxas sound so completely enraged . . . and hurt. He was blazing, unstoppable, and Axel was in the line of fire. Hell, he'd started this firestorm. _You have no fucking clue. You're so fucking caught up in yourself you don't even see it. You're __**leaving**__, you asshole. Leaving, probably for good, and you have the fucking balls to tell me that you love me? What are you playing at? How- _Roxas suddenly advanced on Axel, shoving him in the chest as he spoke, the words forming from a growl in his throat, _the hell, do you expect, me to respond?_

_Not like this! _Axel raged back. _I don't have all the answers, but I do know what I feel for you. I don't have to go home forever, I want to come back!_

_Bullshit, no one comes back to stay. And for what? Some half-assed long-distance relationship we'll fall out of anyway? I'd rather not waste my time._

_How do you know that's what it'll be like? _Axel demanded. _I could talk to the deans, finish up this semester, try to transfer to the American University-_

Roxas cut him off mid-sentence. _What are you trying to prove? We're over, there's no point. _

_But I love-_

_Don't say that. I don't want to hear it,_ Roxas snapped, shoulders tensing even more if it was possible. _I didn't expect you to react like this. But it's better this way, the way it should have been. I want you to leave me alone now._

Axel stood his ground instead. _No._

_What the fuck do you mean, 'no'? Get the fuck out, I'm done talking with you._

_No, we're not done. You think I want to go back now_? _I want to stay here-_

_You sound pathetic, _Roxas snarled. _It doesn't matter what you want, you'll be leaving soon anyway. Get over it, _he said coldly. _You were good for a laugh and a fuck, so save me the dramatics and stop bothering me._

_Says the hopeless fucking romantic who couldn't stand the thought of me leaving last week, _Axel responded, tone low and biting.

_Don't flatter yourself. I'm over it now, don't assume I'll be crying over having the bed to myself. In fact if you keep this up, I may even celebrate._

_Oh come on Roxas, _Axel said, his tone bordering on mockery. He could feel his carefully constructed control slipping; all he wanted to do now was lash out, let the words sting and poison just as much as Roxas allowed his to. _We both know that's not true, _he sneered. _You don't want to admit it, but 'celebrating' will be the last thing on your mind. At least I'm not hiding it._

_You're fucking delusional,_ the blond hissed, but Axel caught the brief widening of his eyes and the frown that flickered over his face. _I don't need you, I'm done. I don't care, and you are making a complete ass of yourself._

_Right, because you don't need anyone, _Axel laughed.

_You're right, I don't,_ Roxas responded. _Certainly not some obnoxious American who thinks he can waltz around and assume I'm his boyfriend._

_You know, I honestly I don't know why you're so upset. I get it, you didn't love me – but aren't I the one with the reason to be pissed? Because if you think about it, all you had to say was 'sorry Axel, I just don't feel like that.' But no, you flip your fucking shit, but I'm not allowed because I'm a stupid American. Your funny American. Sex and entertainment all in one, right? So why the __**fuck**__ are you so pissed, I wonder._

Roxas snapped. _You didn't have to take it there, _he raged, getting right up in Axel's face and personal space. His lips, Axel couldn't help but notice, were trembling slightly even as they curled up into a snarl. _You ruined it, it was fun._

Axel was at a loss for words at that, his internal translator faltering in those few seconds. Roxas took advantage.

_And that's all it ever could be, don't you see that? You come here, Americans, people from all over, to study. And you can't stay forever, you know that. This, it's a fantasy. A trip, a break from normal studying. Rome is your escape, just for a little bit. But this is my reality, and I have to deal with the pieces when you leave. So I did not want you to get serious - I had a good time with you, but it's time to move on._

Axel felt his rage and frustration quiet, a sickening acknowledgement filling in where they once brimmed. "Roxas," he said quietly, reaching for the younger man.

_What did I just say?_ Roxas blanched angrily, his expression morphing at the flip of a switch as he backed out of Axel's reach.

_This guy bothering you?_ Axel turned and found Roxas' new … person glaring at him impassively, an arm slipping around Roxas' waist while the other one handed the blond a drink. This guy wasn't really that attractive, Axel thought bitterly, if one hated scars. But otherwise, he wasn't that bad-looking – longish brown hair, handsome face, decent body - and Axel had the distinct sense that though the other guy was pretty much expressionless, he probably wouldn't think twice about starting a brawl with him even in the club.

Axel merely gave the newcomer a telling smirk.

_No, _Roxas answered, donning a neutral expression that almost matched the brunet's. _It's fine._

"Yeah, no worries," Axel said cavalierly._ Go with your new guy or whatever. I need to get my DVDs soon by the way. I'll get out of your way. Have fun, _he finished bitingly.

Roxas gave him a sharp look, but said nothing.

Axel turned and walked away, waving over his shoulder as he reentered the main club. After all of shouting and heated discussion in a secluded room, Axel almost welcomed the cacophony of sounds, the barrage of grinding beats and the bodies crowding all around him. He disappeared into the crowd and back out the door, the hollow cavity in his chest feeling more like a huge, gaping maw with each purposeful step and calming breath. A mantra formed in his mind, steady and repetitive and in time with his footfalls – _so what, so what, keep walking_

The quotes featured in this chapter, as they appear:

Xion; "Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it?" – Neil Gaiman

Olette; "The Encyclopedia Galactica, in its chapter on Love states that it is far too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of love: Avoid, if at all possible." – _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, _by Douglas Adams

Xigbar; "Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." – Alfred Lord Tennyson

Demyx; "Why love if losing hurts so much? We love to know that we are not alone." – C.S. Lewis

Larxene; "The demand to be loved is the greatest of all arrogant presumptions." – Friedrich Nietzsche

Margherita; "Where there is love, there is pain." – Spanish proverb

Zexion; Lady GaGa

Roxas; "Goodbye, because I love you." – _The Awakening_, Kate Chopin

And, uh …. please don't kill me? I promise that it won't be another 4 months for 10. /pinkie-swear


	11. Track 10: Boys Boys Boys

Title: Moped Romance [10/12]  
Pairing: Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

Warnings: Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene, sexytimes, Demyx waxing philosophical, BROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS.  
Rating: R  
Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
A/N: Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Lady GaGa.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** After Roxas makes himself clear, Axel tries to finish up the semester strongly.

**Author's Note 2:** Here we are at Track 10. Holy crap Batman, only two more chapters to go! Thank you all for putting up with me being all over the place, and for everyone who's been sad about the last few chapters, there's a reward in this one!

**Cultural notes:**

_Tabaccheria _– a convenience store of sorts. Sells not only tobacco products but also stamps, cell phone cards, snacks, lottery tickets, cameras, and knick-knacks. Some will even carry school products and souvenirs.

Track 10 – Boys Boys Boys

_Hey there sugar baby_

_Saw you twice at the pop show_

_You taste just like glitter_

_Mixed with rock and roll_

_I like you a lot lot_

_Think you're really hot hot_

_I know you think you're special_

_When we dance real crazy_

_Glamaphonic, electronic, disco baby_

_I like you a lot lot_

_All we want is hot hot_

Spring finally descended in full force after the trip to Florence; the sun suddenly seemed to find its way to Rome, causing the city to brighten and the temperature to climb. Axel thought this rather abrupt change was particularly ironic given that only recently had his mood taken a deep nosedive. Everyone around him seemed to welcome the arrival of spring while Axel still felt caught in one of those extended Scandinavian winters. In Axel's mind, the world moved much faster than it did before; walking back to his apartment, to class, to the market - people moved around him in blurs, rushed forms of human beings while Axel felt like he was walking through gelatin, like his movements were slow and labored. The world carried on all around him, unheeding of his change of pace.

Axel had been heartbroken before, this isn't an entirely new thing. But Axel couldn't help but think in half-bitter thoughts that yes, he should have seen this coming from miles away. They weren't meant to be, he and Roxas – and though Axel had imagined a different ending, one significantly more amicable, really they all carried the same result. Still, Axel was the type to put his most neutral face forward and keep walking despite the irrational urge to punch random pedestrians in the face to deal with his anger. Chatting briefly with his parents had only served to exasperate him even more, with his mother prying about Roxas or what he'd been up to lately. His bitter mood only intensified.

Rather than think about Roxas, Axel tried to remove all traces of the blond from his vicinity. All of the pictures on his computer featuring him were hidden away beneath several layers of folders on his desktop (he didn't have the heart to delete them), which also made them unavailable for use in his ever-changing screensaver. Messages were deleted, songs were shuffled quickly before anything remotely Roxas-like began to play.

The Lady GaGa songs that had wormed their way onto his iTunes were a very prominent point of contention for him as well. While he had assumed a truce mentality with regard to her and her songs for the duration of his and Roxas' relationship, he'd also come to associate her songs with Roxas and many of their adventures together. Now however, Axel truly couldn't stand her and made no apologies for his feelings. She was all sparkle, glitz, and glamour – nothing substantial or resilient about her; a flash of glowing energy among established stars, doomed to fizzle out just like Roxas and Axel had.

Axel couldn't be content with just forgetting and relishing his bitterness, either; there were final projects to begin work on, sketches Axel needed to do and pretend as if he'd only forgotten them the day they were due, though the instructor clearly understood that "I forgot it at my apartment" meant "I'll do it last minute." She merely shrugged; half the students were giving her the same excuse now, and with little more than two weeks left to the semester she didn't seem to care as much anyway. Axel preferred to work alone as it was, to do things on his own schedule without someone looking over his shoulder every few minutes - so he took her reminder and pointed glare with a responding shrug.

Axel was doing one of his make-up sketches in his room when Demyx walked in, closing the door behind him quietly while Axel worked. So focused on his speed-sketching, Axel didn't bother to look up. "What's up, Dem?"

Axel heard rather than saw the rustling of fabric relaying a shrug before his best friend walked over and sat heavily on the bed behind Axel. "You doing ok?"

"Yeah," Axel answered distractedly, shading in the sketch where darkness fell on the pile of books at the end of his bed, his hastily-thrown-together study. "Yeah, I'm fine. What's going on?"

Demyx shrugged again. Why was he walking on eggshells? "Just, you know, checking. You seemed kind of out of it the last few days."

"I'm fine," Axel said carelessly. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Right," Demyx snorted. "I've known you for three years, clearly I don't know a problem when I see it."

"I don't have a problem," Axel responded stiffly.

"Except you do," Demyx retorted. "Blond, petite, dancing queen, gayest little thing this side of the Tiber aside from you, responds to 'Roxas' - though I'm sure he answered to a few other choice nicknames when you two were together. That problem, Axel."

"I don't think that's really any of your business."

"He wouldn't let you talk, would he?"

"You know, I could have sworn I said something about it not being your business," Axel said sharply, turning around to glare at Demyx.

"Hey man, I'm just trying to let you know that I'm here for you, ok? No reason to get pissy with me."

"Of course he didn't let me talk," Axel seethed. "I'm the one who had to stand there while he went off on me."

"But were you listening?"

Axel faltered momentarily, his jaw clamping shut as he swallowed. "Yeah, of course I was. It was a little hard not to."

Demyx sighed and plopped down on the bed beside Axel's. He leaned over, tapping his fingers together. "You weren't supposed to go that far. It's not fair for either of you. When you couldn't remember what he looked like, or when you lost your phone, the best thing for you to do would have been to move on. To forget him. That's the logical thing anyway, but I know you never put stock in logic."

"You honestly think that? That I should have forgotten him in the beginning?"

"Objectively? Yes," Demyx answered frankly. "Or if anything, you should have kept it purely physical. Nobody expects anything – not from us, and vice versa. You really think that bartender Larxene went home with is going to be pining after her and getting all emotionally involved?"

Axel put his hand up to stop Demyx. "Too much. And _ewww_."

Demyx frowned. "Perhaps that was a bad example. He's probably too afraid to develop an emotional attachment to her."

Axel shuddered. Quite frankly Larxene with _anyone_ was thoroughly disturbing. "Can we … not discuss that?"

"Ok, forget that. But you understand, right? It's self-defense. You put your heart into creating this relationship, and that's what it cost you."

"You know this whole pep talk thing? Really not your strongpoint," Axel sighed, turning back to the subject of his sketch.

"Yeah, yeah, what do you want from a lab rat? But the point, Axel – maybe you should have forgotten him, but the world isn't objective. It's hard enough as it is, finding someone in this crazy, fucked up world that can't get its priorities worked out. And you got lucky, I'm not going to dispute that. You're really, really fucking lucky, man," Demyx said, giving him what easily could have been one of the most serious expressions he'd ever seen on Demyx's face.

"You kidding?" Axel snorted. "I fucked everything up."

"The way things played out, maybe a little," Demyx allowed, nodding slightly. "We all do that. But in this situation, no matter how lucky you were, here's what I've got to say. You found something special. And I know you, when you find something worth holding on to you grab and don't let go. So what really happened?"

Axel put his charcoal down, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his clean hand. "He was with someone else," he admitted reluctantly. "We argued. I thought we were both going to start throwing punches at one point. And he didn't say we shouldn't have kept seeing each other – you remember, he wanted me there with them."

Demyx nodded in assent. "Yeah, you just had to be careful. So what did he say?"

"That it was fun before I said anything. But when I did, it went too far."

Demyx was silent for a few moments. "He's just as at fault as you are in this," he said seriously. "Roxas tried to walk the line there just as much as you."

"I know he felt the same."

"And I don't doubt you on that," Demyx replied. "But it doesn't sound like he's going to back down anytime soon."

Axel frowned. "You're probably right. I just feel the empty space, you know? Where he should be," he finished quietly.

Demyx fidgeted agitatedly for a moment, then grabbed Axel's wrist, pulling him up. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But you know what else I know? Our presence is ephemeral in the Eternal City – all of _this_," he said emphatically, waving his free arm towards the open window overlooking the city, "is going to end for us very soon. And I will _not_ let you sit here moping and doing crappy still-lifes when you could be getting your macabre on with the Capuchins."

Axel raised a rather amused red eyebrow. "The monkeys?"

"The monks! The ones with the crypt decorated with thousands of other dead monks' bones! It's so eerie and creepy and now we totally have to go."

"I think that's more of Zexion's thing, with the dead people and all."

Demyx didn't falter. "Zexion wouldn't go with me. Let's go!" he announced, pulling Axel's arm.

In truth, Axel was pretty impressed by Demyx' use of words like 'ephemeral' and 'macabre' that they had declared useless outside of English 101 – and maybe, just maybe, he was spending too much time in his room. Maybe the pencils and charcoals he'd bought on an art supply excursion with Naminé needed to be dusted off and used on something worthwhile, as opposed to the plate and glasses he was working on. Maybe – ok, definitely – Demyx was right, and maybe – Axel figured he was about 79% sure – Demyx was trying to hide something as much as Axel was trying to forget. He considered asking him, knowing Demyx caved under the right amount of pressure to spill, but that wasn't how their friendship worked. They'd talk when the time was right.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Axel and Demyx headed out on their own crazy little adventure. They got lost for the hell of it on the way to the Capuchin crypt, ending up in a bar for coffee and nutella-filled _cornetti_ (Axel prematurely mourned the loss of such an orgasmically delicious delicacy back in the states) before they managed to find their way to Piazza Barberini and into the crypt. They paid the small entrance fee, complained about the prohibition on cameras in the crypt, and headed in.

The setup, with each of the rooms decorated as Demyx described with thousands of human bones, was somewhere between morbidly fascinating and downright creepy. As Demyx marveled at the use of each and every single bone in the human body in the décor – from chandeliers made out of pelvic bones and ribs to the skulls adorning the walls to the full skeleton on the ceiling wielding both scythe and scale (also fashioned out of bone) – Axel was wishing for his camera. No one back home would believe such a thing existed without photographic evidence, and what better way to take a bit of revenge on Reno by grossing his girlfriends out with pictures of perverse home decorating?

"Where'd they get the bones?" Axel whispered, looking up the skulls lining the doorway.

"They brought their dead with them," Demyx answered. "There are four thousand people in here."

Axel shuddered. They stayed in the last room for a few minutes while other visitors came and went, looking up at the skeletons on the ceiling and the multi-lingual inscription that made Axel feel rather cold:

_What you are now we used to be; what we are now you will be._

Demyx shuddered beside him. "You know, I think _carpe diem _works just fine for me."

"I think there's something to say for both of them," Axel chuckled quietly. "Come on, let's go for a pizza or something."

"I can't believe you can talk about food in this place."

"Says the man who named his fetal pig 'Bacon' in Anatomy and Physiology."

"We're not talking about food here. Let's go, I know you want one of those postcard booklets with all the pictures of the crypt."

Multiple postcards later, they headed out bickering with each other and somewhere along the way Axel ended up carrying Demyx piggyback around the winding streets while the blond snapped pictures and made airplane sounds because too funny not to. Somehow they managed to wind up in a pizza place without being stopped by the _carabinieri_ for possible drug use. Beer in hand and the cultural betrayal (for Axel's Chicago roots, anyway) known as traditional Italian thin crust in front of him, the world moved on and everything seemed alright, at least for the time being. Tomorrow would be spent finally wandering around the Vatican museums (easily an all-day affair) and possibly the Forum if there was time. With only a scant few weeks left to this incredible trip, Axel responded with renewed determination to enjoy the rest of the experience to the fullest.

The next morning Axel headed out early for what promised to be a full day of running around. His first stop was the Vatican museum which, as Naminé and his art professor had long been saying, was positively dumbfounding in its sheer size and number of collections. Arriving armed with pencils, charcoal, and an empty sketchbook early the next morning, within a few hours the pages were completely taken up with no room to spare – and judging by the extensive pull-out map/brochure. Axel had only made it to about four of the collections. The rest of the day was spent with camera in hand, trying to capture as much as he could before his memory card exploded. As it was his computer was in serious danger of filling up to the last gigabyte of memory – he feared he might have to invest in a second portable hard drive.

Axel just made it to the Forum before the person at the gate began barring admittance; it would soon be twilight, and after nightfall the park would have to be vacated. The sun falling behind the trees and ancient ruins of what was once the center of political life in Rome cast dramatic shadows across the well-worn stones and resilient columns, a sight that somehow gave Axel an intense feeling of extraordinary satisfaction with regard to two well-spent days. Not only had he managed to ward off the sometimes sudden and painful reminders of the lack of blond at his side, but Axel had also managed to get out and experience some of the more iconic and important destinations in Rome for many travelers. He'd been so distracted by glitter in the air, the smell of product in blond hair and the high-pitched roar of a moped engine that he'd almost forgotten the city around him. And now, surrounded by ancient stones and buildings that had stood the test of time (with a little help), he couldn't help but wonder how the two Romes coexisted. The ancient and the new stood side by side with very little guiding the transitions, with history sometimes long forgotten in its meaning held its own beside newer developments. The ancient aqueducts still brought water from the mountains to the city on a regular basis, as much to the happiness of travelers as city-dwellers. There was a constant struggle to find an acceptable common ground, but modernity always seemed to give way to antiquity; while all other things fell apart at the seams the most ancient of all remained. Broken and sometimes misunderstood, but still standing.

Axel suddenly remembered he hated all this philosophical stuff, and immediately cursed the crap out of Demyx for infecting him.

0o0

Class the next day was their absolute last; reminders were given out about exams, when and where to show up, what appointment you had, and so on. By luck of the draw, Axel was supposed to show up the next day at the art history professor's apartment for that final. The weekend was free, luckily, and he planned on spending it catching up on his grammar and often-neglected vocabulary. On the way from class to the Abbey for lunch, Axel realized that he had to make a quick stop in the _tabaccheria_ nearby for some extra supplies. Demyx headed off with him, making small conversation as they went. Axel pulled off to the side of the tiny cobblestone street when he heard the dull roar of a moped, his heart beating a little faster at the sound. The rumble of the motor got closer until it overtook them; immediately all wishful thinking on Axel's part vanished – the moped was newer, looked like a rental, and was painted a vibrant, glossy red. There were two riders, a smaller and more spritely form perched behind the larger driver.

The driver pulled the vehicle to a stop right outside Cloud and Tifa's little bar, letting the motor wind down as his passenger pulled off his helmet, revealing a head of chestnut hair now unfortunately rather afflicted with hat-hair. He turned to the side, giving Axel pause when he recognized him in profile – but what was _Sora_ doing in the city?

Roxas' brother was chatting animatedly with the driver, who didn't seem to share the brunet's enthusiasm for whatever they were up to. Eventually Sora pulled the driver off the moped and pulled his helmet off for him; long white-silver hair (Axel vaguely wondered about the cost of the color upkeep) tumbled out from underneath the helmet, held back in a now mostly destroyed ponytail that fell mid-shoulder. He was a good head and a half taller than Sora, broader and a bit more muscular. Both headed right into Cloud's bar, the little bell over the door chiming as they went in.

"Was that…?" Demyx prompted; having been the only other person (besides Zexion) who'd helped with the search for Roxas earlier in the semester, he too remembered seeing the picture of Roxas' brother show up on Facebook.

Axel nodded and shrugged, attempting to keep his heart in check as he recalled Roxas' story about his brother and what had happened between them. They went into the _tabaccheria _and found the few supplies they needed – another sketchbook for Axel's art class, graph paper among other things for Demyx's architecture one. Several Euros lighter and soon to be even more, the two of them headed out and back in the direction of the Abbey. Axel chanced a look into the bar as they passed it; Sora and his companion were chatting with Cloud, their backs safely turned. Then Tifa caught Axel's glance and made a face, and in confusion Sora turned and met Axel's gaze quizzically.

Axel looked away, disarmed by the similarity in their bright blue eyes, and quickened his pace. "Tifa's still out for blood," he muttered to Demyx in explanation.

"Wow, that woman's really protective," Demyx marveled, matching his pace. "Sheesh."

The doorbell chimed behind them, and was quickly followed by footsteps. "Shit," Axel hissed. Tifa had never come after him before – and while he didn't doubt her intent to eventually sic her and Cloud's dogs after him, he thought it would be seriously out of hand for her to start chasing him now.

"Hey! Stop!"

Axel came to a standstill seconds later; that was not the voice of an angry, homicidal Tifa, but of a teenage boy with an accent so very similar to Roxas'. He looked over his shoulder, eyebrows rising as Sora caught up to him, eyes alight with determination. "What?"

Sora put his hands on his hips, but the gesture didn't seem at all serious – more like he just had to do something with his hands. "You know Roxas?" he asked in his accented English.

"Hey man, I'm gonna go," Demyx said quietly, patting his jacket. "I think you can handle him."

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there in a bit," Axel nodded. Then he turned back to Sora and shrugged. "Maybe."

Sora's bright smile fell by a fraction. "Tifa … she said you were his boyfriend."

"'Were' is the operative word here," Axel muttered, a little bitterly. "She tell you she was going to set the dogs after me?"

Now it was Sora's turn to shrug. "She's like that sometimes. But you know him?"

Axel nodded briefly. "Yeah, I do."

Sora's smile returned hundredfold. "Good! Then you can tell me where he is!"

"Woooahh, hey now, I never said that. Why do you want to find him so badly?"

"He's my brother," Sora answered. "I just want to talk."

"And I'm pretty sure if I told you where to find him he'd kill me," Axel chuckled darkly. "Let's just pretend we never had this conversation, right?"

Sora pouted. Then he switched tactics. "What's your name?"

"Axel," he answered, eyeing the shorter brunet shrewdly. "And I know your name is Sora."

"He, ah, talked about me, huh," Sora said nervously, looking away and rubbing the back of his head.

"Just a bit," Axel responded, a little shortly.

Sora cursed under his breath, muttering what sounded suspiciously like _he has no idea what it was like_.

"He said you screwed him over," Axel said reluctantly, throwing the kid a bone.

"We were kids!" Sora protested.

"Somehow I don't think he's seeing it that way," Axel shrugged. "Look it's been nice chatting, but I've got someplace to be."

"It's not what you think!"

Axel looked at him sharply. "It's not my problem, man. Roxas and I are . . . we're done. So I really don't care what happened between you two – but I honestly think you'd be better off leaving him alone."

Sora paused, shifting on his feet and swallowing. "You really loved him?"

"What's it to you?" Axel said, a little waspishly.

"You are protecting him from the big bad me," Sora chuckled uneasily. "I know I fucked up. I know. But I think we are both old enough to work things out."

Axel noticed that the older teenager with the silver-white hair had left the bar, and was making his way towards them. "Maybe. I just don't want to be the one on the business end of his fist when he finds out I'm the one who sent you his way."

Sora snorted, sputtering and doubling over as he began to laugh. "I like you. You were probably very good for my brother."

"Tried to be," Axel conceded. "Your brother is kind of a bitch to please."

A broad, knowing smile spread over Sora's face. "I know, I grew up with him." Sora's companion arrived, his expression stony as he looked Axel over; the brunet turned and wrapped an arm around the other boy's broader waist, greeting him happily. _This is Axel, Roxas' someone. _"Axel, this is Riku."

"Your 'someone?' Axel teased. He nodded to the other boy, noticing the wariness in his gaze.

Sora chuckled, his cheeks reddening. "Something like that."

_How did you two meet?_ Axel asked conversationally, switching to Italian since Sora had when talking to Riku.

_I worked for Sora's family, _Riku answered, pushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

Axel suddenly remembered the conversation with Roxas on the beach, the bitterness in his tone when he said that his brother had developed a _thing_ for the gardener's son. Where they still together?

_And how did you and Roxas meet?_ Riku asked in return.

Axel paused, trying to figure out how to actually tell that story. _It's kind of a funny story, actually._

Sora continued to smile knowingly. _It always is._

_That so? _Axel raised an eyebrow at him, an inkling of interest forming in his mind. _You must know all sorts of stories, then._

_A few, _Sora allowed coyly. _Obviously I don't know any of Roxas' stories from living here._

_I have a feeling ours was one of the more interesting ones,_ Axel snickered.

_Roxas' stories were always entertaining, from what Sora used to tell me, _Riku said through a slowly-spreading smirk. _I think maybe we should hear this one sometime._

Sora nodded his approval of this idea. "Supper and drinks? Maybe tomorrow?"

Axel paused briefly, then mentally shrugged and said 'fuck it.' "Sure, why not. I have an exam tomorrow, how about after?"

Sora seemed rather excited about this prospect, and they quickly agreed to meet at Coming Out later the next night. Axel briefly wondered if doing so was a good idea or not, but given that he probably wouldn't be seeing much of Roxas at all before the end of his stay he figured 'why the fuck not?' Why not get a bit more information from the other side of the story, and maybe put a higher percentage of the pieces from the brothers' jigsaw puzzle together? What did he honestly have to lose?

0o0

The exam seemed silly to Axel; it was somehow supposed to be a combination of art history and Roman history, involving arranging pieces of paper with events or artistic trends in chronological order – while the professors watched him. All in all it was probably one of the most awkward and obnoxious exams he had ever been subjected to, and he couldn't wait to get out of there and get ready to head out later in the night.

It felt like it had been weeks, Axel thought as he moved through the crowded bar area in Coming Out, since he had gone to a club or a bar simply for his own enjoyment. The last time he had been to a club had been Qube to find Roxas, and he could hardly remember the last time he went to Coming Out. So he hardly blamed himself for wanting to go out and have a bit more fun before his semester came to an end. He found Sora and Riku sitting towards the back in the circle of couches he, Roxas, and Roxas' friends usually sat in.

The meeting wasn't nearly as comfortable or lively as they were with Roxas or his other friends, but he figured it went well enough for them getting to know each other. They ordered pizza and drinks, and had them fairly quickly given the pub's busyness. Having learned his lesson a few times over there was a fairly simple mojito in his hand rather than the pub's deadly Long Island Iced Tea. Sora appeared to have the same taste in liquor as his brother, sipping something powerfully fruity-smelling that might have been pineapple – while Riku preferred a kind of beer Axel hadn't heard of. The small talk Axel hated so much eventually dissipated as liquor loosened their tongues, making conversation much easier – even as Axel remembered part of his discussion with Roxas and brought it up to the other two. Sobriety might have gotten his question answered in an entirely different way.

Sora and Riku exchanged a long glance, as if communicating silently with the other, before the brunet nodded. "My father … doesn't know. Yet. He will, it is stupid to hide."

"It really is," Axel agreed. "I know your dad isn't the most forgiving or whatever, but lying is worse."

Sora nodded gravely, despite the light mood not moments before. "I would, honestly, still like to talk with him. There were things my father said and did that… that I do not agree with. That I wish I had done differently."

Axel accepted that; there were plenty of things he himself wished he had done better in retrospect, especially during his teenage years.

After much discussion and pleading Axel finally relayed how he and Roxas had met – him drunk and lost, Roxas merciful and later scandalized by Axel's treatment of his favorite boots; between bouts of endless laughter Sora admitted that theirs was the craziest he had heard.

_They get better with age, I guess, _Axel shrugged and chuckled, taking another sip of his drink.

Sora, on his third glass of whatever tropical concoction he was drinking, erupted into giggles and leaned against Axel's shoulder, lips curving in a mad grin against his collarbone. The younger brunet was still wrapped in Riku's arms, drink making him pliable and friendly like it did for Roxas. Axel chuckled at his antics and leaned forward to get his drink from the table in front of them. When he sat back, leaning back comfortably against the cushions Sora resumed his position snuggled at Axel's side.

Time and place had become such a complete nonissue that when an outraged sound burst through his happy bubble it took Axel a moment to figure out where he was and what exactly was going on. He looked up sharply, and took an even sharper breath.

Roxas, jaw hanging limply, was staring at the three of them blankly. _What the fuck is this? _he barked, clenching his jaw so hard it trembled under the stress.

Axel returned his wide stare, but Sora didn't quite see the problem. His smile brightened and he struggled to extricate himself from between Riku and Axel. "Roxas!" he called happily. _You're here! Come sit with us!_

_I'd rather hang myself, _Roxas snarled viciously. His gaze snapped to focus intently on Axel, piercing and accusing all at once. He was shaking with rage, all barely contained by the obvious tension throughout his body and his tightly clenched fists. "You," he uttered, the sound wretched and unbearable, somewhere between a growl and a hiss.

"Rox," Axel said carefully, pushing Sora away and back towards Riku, who was being rather silent.

"Don't," Roxas cut him off quickly, arm moving in a fierce cut in front of his body. "You… you fucking bastard."

Axel's eyes narrowed, and his mouth turned into a deep, angry frown. _And you, hypocrite, _he hissed in return. _Don't you even start._

Roxas shook his head, face contorted, and turned on his heel towards the door. Shoving people aside as he went, Roxas disappeared into the crowd and out into the night.

Axel stared after him, heart still racing and stuck somewhere in his throat after the brief exchange. Sora and Riku were talking, maybe even talking to him, but Axel decided he'd had enough. He pulled out a bunch of bills and left them on the table, apologized to the brunet and his boyfriend, and followed in Roxas' footsteps out of the pub.

0o0

As Axel lay in bed the next morning, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore Xigbar's god-awful snoring, he started to fully realize just how _stupid_ this whole thing was. Whether it was just Roxas playing a game with him or they were both unwilling participants Axel was not sure, but something had to give in the end. Despite all the blond's protests about continuing their relationship, the look in his eyes that Axel had caught was strikingly familiar – when they were together Roxas had been rather protective and possessive of him, usually masked by a playful tone and not at all in a way that seemed alarming. But last night – was that jealousy? If his suspicions were correct and it was indeed jealousy, he was definitely right about there still being something there between them – maybe something they weren't ready face or thought it was easier to ignore, but _something_. Axel didn't want to hold out on hope, but it was still a tantalizing thought.

"Doesn't he still have your DVDs?" Demyx asked through a mouthful of toast, looking down at the redhead sitting solidly against the kitchen door. Another shout and series of pounding fists rattled the wooden portal, threats of dismemberment and the removal of certain fragile parts making their way through.

Axel took another bite of his apple and braced himself against the door once again. "Yeah. I should get them back before I forget."

"Come with me then when I leave – I have to go in for my exam in a bit, we can take the bus that way."

"Sure," Axel agreed, wondering how he was going to get by Xigbar.

"What'd you do, if you don't mind me asking?"

Axel took his time chewing the next bite, savoring the tart taste and relishing the memory of twenty minutes earlier, when Xigbar's snoring had gone to new levels of GOD-AWEFUL and resulted in Axel pitching shoes at the other man's head.

"Nothing," he said.

Demyx leveled a glare at him, though the corners of his mouth were twitching in mirth. "You're terrible."

"So's your face."

"Your levels of maturity astound me."

"As they should," Axel said, polishing off his toast. "So what are we gonna do about him?" he asked, nodding his head back to indicate the fairly irate man on the other side of the door.

"He's your problem," Demyx said with a shrug. "You're the one who threw shoes at him, I've already done my part protecting you for now."

"Think you can spare me a moment of your time to distract him while I make my escape?"

"Man, why do you always have to involve me in your crazy antics?" which in Demyx meant, 'of course.'

"Because if I didn't you'd complain about being left out of all the fun?" Axel pointed out; 'love you too, man.'

"Point," Demyx admitted, rising from his seat – 'Yeah, yeah.'

"So what's the plan?"

"I go in on the offensive. Barricade him in your room, maybe the bathroom."

"He's going to kill us later," Axel winced, standing as Demyx joined him at the door.

"If I die, I'm going to kill you," Demyx said threateningly. They waited for Xigbar to renew his fist-pounding against the door before pulling it open abruptly; Demyx caught the upper classman and redirected his momentum in a bear hug, shouting the other man's name as if he was the happiest clam in the ocean to see him. Xigbar, caught off guard in the middle of his rant, found himself shut in one of the bathrooms while Axel and Demyx gathered whatever they needed for the rest of the day. They made it out just as Lexaeus, returning from his own exam, released Xigbar from his prison; luckily for them Xigbar decided not to pursue, and they made it to the bus on time.

Axel left the bus after a few stops, then picked up another one that took him closer to Roxas' apartment building. Every step felt like a mile, like he'd never make it without his heart beating right out of his chest.

Miraculously someone was leaving the apartment building when Axel arrived, so he was able to catch the heavy door before it closed completely. He made his way into the courtyard, taking note of the presence of Roxas' white moped chained alongside other Vespas and bicycles owned by tenants. Axel vaulted the steps two at a time and found the door to Roxas' apartment moments later, knocking loudly. Then he began to pray silently that anyone but Roxas came to the door; it had been awkward enough seeing him the other night, and Axel was feeling a little apprehensive about talking with him one on one.

Axel heard shuffling and doors closing from within, and fisted his hands in his pockets nervously. Then the door swung open, and Axel blinked owlishly.

Roxas, usually so put together without a single hair or thread that could be found out of place, was standing on the other side of the portal looking rather disheveled, as though he didn't have the energy to really care about his appearance for the time being. His hair was devoid of product, falling limply and across his forehead in wispy strands, and he was dressed only in a grey shirt and dark blue sweat pants.

Axel had never seen Roxas wear sweatpants – ever. He'd been avid that Axel would never see him wearing them, since he saw them as 'lazy clothing,' and as a self-proclaimed fashionista would not be caught dead wearing them.

_What do you want?_ the blond asked stonily, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.

"Hi," Axel said, after recovering for a moment. "Uh, my DVDs," he responded, meeting Roxas' gaze fully. _Hope it's not too much trouble, _he added.

Roxas flinched ever so slightly at his icy tone but turned back into the apartment, granting Axel access.

Axel closed the door behind himself, watching Roxas' back as he moved through the kitchen; the sweat pants were slung low on the blond's hips, and each step revealed a sliver of skin to Axel. _Where is everybody else? _he asked, noticing the silence in the apartment.

_Dancing,_ Roxas answered absently.

_Why aren't you?_

_I didn't feel like it,_ Roxas answered wearily, as though he'd answered the same question dozens of times before.

Axel frowned. _Are you feeling ok?_ he asked as Roxas opened the door to his room.

_Mind your own business,_ Roxas snapped, disappearing into his dimly-lit room.

_I was just asking, _Axel growled, taking the defensive.

_And I don't feel like answering,_ he said, voice muffled from the other side of the wall.

Axel sighed and didn't respond, shuffling around the little kitchen where they'd cooked together, played card games with Roxas' friends, even where they'd had sex once – Roxas perched on the edge of the counter, legs wrapped around Axel's waist, fingers scratching along his shoulder blades, lips at his ear moaning and demanding until he couldn't speak anymore.

Happier, more pleasant days (and nights).

There were dishes left undone, pots of food out on the stove and breakfast table, leaving Axel to wonder just how irate Olette was getting; she was the one who always rallied the troops when it came to keeping the kitchen and living area clean, and obviously someone hadn't been pulling their weight lately.

Roxas appeared a moment later, DVD case in his hand, just as Axel asked if everything was ok here in general. The blond gave him a disgusted look. _Why do you care?_

_Will you stop that?_ Axel demanded, feeling exasperated now with Roxas' continued attitude. _I'm just worried about you, none of this is like-_

_What do you know? _Roxas snarled. _I can act however I want. You think you understand me? You don't know the first thing about me!_

_Of course not, how could I? _Axel responded in kind; then he sighed. _Look. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what happened, about last night-_

_I will never forgive you for that, _Roxas whispered, the malice in his voice penetrating and resounding._ You know what he did, I told you, I told you the one thing I never say – and you went out with him._

_You know what, Roxas? I didn't see the fucking harm, _Axel said, wondering how this could possibly end well. _You didn't want me around anymore, and I was curious about him, alright?_

_Curious? _Roxas asked, low and biting. _I don't understand what possessed you to go along, being 'curious' won't cut it!_

_Why not, Roxas? _Axel countered. They might as well have been screaming in each other's faces. _What's got you so scared of him and I talking?_

_Because the last thing I want is him poisoning you against me! _The words burst from Roxas' mouth like water from a dam until the blond stopped himself abruptly, vulnerability and fear flickering across his face for just a second – like he'd spilled a secret never meant for another's ears, or just opened himself to the potential for misery.

Axel stared; Sora? The younger boy had seemed honestly contrite as far as he could sense, and hadn't tried to fill Axel's ears with horrifying stories that could possibly blight his perception of the blond. _Is that really what you think?_

_You idiot, _Roxas raged, recovering from his momentary lapse._ Of all the people, you had to go with my brother._ _My fucking brother. Anyone else, whatever. But him?_

_It wasn't like that! And hey, what the hell did I care, you didn't want me around anymore!_

_And can you see why now? _he asked savagely. _I'm sick of this._

Axel narrowed his eyes dangerously. _You fucked this up just as much as me. Maybe I spoke too quickly, but I honestly . . . _"damn it," he said, faltering. "I honestly, genuinely care about you. I don't expect anything, really. So I'm sorry." _I'm really sorry._

Roxas looked like he was about to say something, but couldn't put the right words to his tongue; like he was somehow hovering back and forth between helpless rage and something softer Axel wasn't sure he wanted to try and name. Teeth worried at his lip, blue eyes wide and staring. Then he gave an abrupt noise of frustration and turned away, hands pointing vaguely and gesturing as he tried to voice his anger manually.

In a split second Roxas turned, dropped the DVD case on the counter and grabbed the front of Axel's shirt roughly, forcing him to Roxas' level and crushing their mouths together violently. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, and Axel swore he tasted copper when he responded just as desperately. Roxas' hand was fisted in the hair at the back of Axel's head and the boy twisted sharply, pulling a grunt from the redhead's mouth. Axel swore under his breath and quickly pushed Roxas back against the wall beside his door, pinning him there with his entire body. The blond scrabbled to push Axel away but he countered Roxas' movements, grabbing his wrists and capturing his mouth once more in a deep, possessive kiss.

Roxas hissed and arched into Axel's body, pressing firmly against him; Axel could barely contain his own arousal at the sensation of the blond's erection pressing against his hip. He tilted his head to gain access to Roxas' neck, groaning his name against the other boy's throat while he tongued at the extremely sensitive skin there.

Suddenly Roxas was doing a different kind of scrabbling, grasping at Axel's shoulders and lifting himself off the floor to wrap his legs around the redhead's waist. Axel licked a hot stripe up Roxas' neck and over his Adam's apple, shifting his stance rolling his hips ever so slightly. Roxas groaned and tilted his head back against the wall, granting Axel better access to the sensitive skin just at the junction of his shoulder and neck that was subsequently abused by the redhead's teeth and tongue.

Roxas shifted his hips again, his arm tightening around the back of Axel's neck to pull him closer; Axel refused to kiss him though, instead pressing in closer and sliding a hand down the blond's side, slipping fingers under the waistband of Roxas' sweat pants. The effect was instantaneous – Roxas arched into the anticipated touch, a barely-repressed whimper escaping his lips while his body practically screamed _touch me touch me touch me_ and Axel was never really one to reject such an earnest request. His hand slipped further, finally wrapping around the blond's achingly hard shaft and Roxas hissed, thrusting up into Axel's hand.

Axel had mapped out the contours of Roxas' cock weeks, months beforehand, had noted just how to make the blond's breath catch and stutter in his throat, the strokes and touches that brought him to crushing orgasm; Axel decided to forgo them all, strokes quick and teasing. Roxas pressed their foreheads and noses together, short breaths ghosting over Axel's nose and lips even as the boy's smaller hands framed his cheeks in a surprisingly gentle, reverent gesture.

_I don't want you gone, _Roxas whispered, soft and Axel could hear the hurting in his voice as if it were direct from Roxas' heart.

Axel responded with a brief kiss, just pressing their lips together for a moment. _I'll stay, _he promised.

Roxas smacked his arm, blatantly ignoring Axel's murmured statement. "Down," he said thickly, and Axel moved away, giving him enough room. The blond immediately grabbed the front of Axel's shirt again and dragged him towards the sanctuary of his room.

It had been too long, Axel told himself, since he had held Roxas in his arms – since they had kissed, since they had touched. In reality they had only spent mere days apart, but their silence had stretched time disproportionately; though each motion, moan and sigh were familiar Axel couldn't help but feel as though it was the first time all over again – but this time instead of a black-lit room in a club it was Roxas' bed, the blanket kicked off somewhere on the floor, obsolete considering the warmth the two bodies on the bed were generating. Roxas was restless, constantly moving and shifting, pulling Axel deeper until there was no reason they couldn't have been one person. Axel had set a hard, brutal pace at the blond's urging, accepting that Roxas wanted to _feel_ him inside for hours to come and on some level wanting Roxas to feel the way his muscles stretched around the redhead's cock.

Roxas came to his own shuddering climax face down on his bed, Axel thrusting stiffly until he stilled, lips moving apologetically over the developing hickey on Roxas' neck. They collapsed together, breathing heavily and refusing the notion of mobility until it became too uncomfortable to remain so intimately connected. Axel tossed the spent condom as quickly as he could and returned to Roxas' bed with the blanket in tow. Pulling the blanket over them, Axel pressed as close to the blond as he could, pressing a tender kiss between scratched and sweat-slick shoulder blades. Roxas shifted and grabbed Axel's hand briefly, scissoring their fingers and kissing his knuckle before letting him go again.

Despite the dimming light from Roxas' windows and the dark room, Axel's world felt infinitely brighter.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Yes. Yes I did.


	12. Track 11: Love is Blindness

Title: Moped Romance [11/12]  
Pairing: Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

Warnings: Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene, domesticity, nostalgia like WOAH  
Rating: R.  
Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
A/N: Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, U2.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter: **Axel and Roxas find themselves in a precarious position in their tentative relationship, and find a way to make it work for both of them.

**Author's Note:** There's actually a story behind this song – when I arrived in Italy my backpack was stolen by a taxi driver, so I lost my laptop, ipod, camera, and PSP (I was THIS close to finishing Crisis Core damn it) in one fell swoop. My parents went out and bought replacements, but the package containing them was stuck in Milan for a month. When I finally received them I turned my new ipod on and discovered my dad had filled it with his entire library of music. Led Zepplin appeared first, but anyway – this song had such a haunting feel to it I fell in love. Also to note: almost exactly two years ago, my own study abroad experience ended.

In other news! There's only one chapter left, guys. And it's ¾ of the way done. I'm kind of having a bit of a panic attack.

Track 11 – Love is Blindness

_Love is blindness_

_I don't want to see_

_Won't you wrap the night_

_Around me_

_Oh my heart_

_Love is blindness_

_In a parked car_

_In a crowded street_

_You see your love_

_Made complete_

_Thread is ripping_

_The knot is slipping_

_Love is blindness_

The next time Axel woke, it took him several minutes to piece together what had happened, where he was. There was only a faint light filtering through the shaded window – definitely not his own, but signaling the arrival of morning. Hadn't he just woken up to Xigbar's plane engine snore not a few hours ago? He tried to shift around to assess the situation but the blankets were tangled up all around him and he felt unbelievably sore, which kept him from getting very far. The bed - definitely Roxas'; he'd spent the night enough to know the sheets, blanket and pillow, especially since he'd become so intimately familiar with them.

Roxas' apartment: DVDs. Shouting. Desperate hands. Warm, pliant body. Nails across his back. Axel swallowed dryly.

He'd fallen asleep beside him, and the pillow they shared was still warm so Roxas couldn't have gone too far. Though if they'd gotten out of hand, as Axel suspected, there was no telling what the blond might have done.

Axel sat up with difficulty, uneasy at that thought, and immediately found Roxas sitting hunched over further down the bed. Knees drawn up to his chest, he was bent over with his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. He too was naked, his back to Axel; swallowing thickly Axel catalogued the marks of nails scored into his back, red lines the redhead himself had put there mere hours earlier when Roxas fucked him into the mattress, having recovered from their earlier tryst. Tendons and muscles shifted under his skin as Roxas slid his hands up to tangle in his blond hair and grip. Then Axel heard him whisper very clearly, _What the __fuck__ am I doing?_ while his shoulders shook. Axel just watched for a moment, mesmerized by the way his skin stretched over his spine and ribs in his hunched-over position. It made his chest ache.

"Roxas," he said quietly.

"Shut up," Roxas answered quickly, his voice raw and hoarse. "I am not ready yet."

So Axel waited patiently, watching Roxas carefully as he collected his thoughts.

Roxas cleared his throat. _A part of me, _he began softly, _a big part actually, wishes I'd never seen you again. I knew, when we first started dating, that if I actually started feeling something for you I'd only hurt. So I tried and tried, denied feeling anything for you to protect myself. Maybe I even started fooling myself about how I felt, I don't know. But then you said … and it hurt. So fucking …. Every time you said it, it was another cut. And the worst part was, you didn't understand. You have absolutely no idea how much this hurts, knowing how you feel and knowing that I have to let you go, that you're going to leave me behind anyway._

_I think you'll find I do understand, _Axel said patiently. _It breaks my heart knowing-_

_I wasn't finished yet, _Roxas interrupted placidly, cutting him off and looking at Axel pointedly. _A big part of me hates you for doing this to me, for making me feel and hurt like this. And I know, I know it's my fault too. But … there is a piece of me that couldn't imagine what I'd do if you hadn't come back for me. That would have hated you even more if you hadn't._

The last part had been spoken so quietly Axel almost didn't hear him. But Roxas met his gaze a moment later, eyes red and a small, sad smile on his face.

_Forgive me, I was being selfish, _Axel said.

_We are both idiots, _Roxas chuckled wryly.

Axel held out his hand, beckoning to him and whispering, _Come here, _so Roxas wouldn't hear his voice break. For all their combined bravados, there wasn't much else Axel wanted to do.

The blond grasped his hand tightly, and Axel tugged him closer, enveloping the smaller boy in his long arms. Roxas slid easily beside him, molding to Axel's side and tucking his head under the redhead's chin, their entangled fingers against Axel's chest.

_What should we do?_ Roxas asked, sounding small and unsure.

Axel licked his lips. _I leave in two weeks. _

_I know. _After another few moments he spoke again. _Will you still hang out with me?_

_You want me to? _

Roxas nodded against his chest. _If you have to go, I want to spend time with you before you leave._

_Ok, _Axel murmured. _We can do that, I think._

The blond tilted his head back, peering up at Axel through the blond hair hanging across his forehead. _Think we . . . can still have sex?_

_Are you sure it's a good idea?_

_Maybe not,_ Roxas shrugged slightly. _But we shouldn't have even been dating in the first place. Can we just stay like this for a little bit more?_

Axel leaned down and kissed the crown of his forehead. _Can I say it now?_

Roxas curled against him more; Axel could feel the small smile on his face against his chest. _As often as you want._

_I love you, then_.

_You too, _Roxas whispered. Axel's heart leapt in his chest; he settled back against him, refusing to think about Sora, about the plane in two weeks – nothing was going to tear him away from this feeling of Roxas' heart beating close to his once more. This was their truce, he supposed. They could stay like this until it simply wasn't an option anymore, when they had to let each other go.

They finally decided it was time to leave the room when someone went into the kitchen and started blasting Madonna's "Papa Don't Preach" – as it turned out it was Olette, who was still in her pajamas as she made breakfast. When Axel made his first appearance she stared at him, eyes wide, before her vision flickered to Roxas.

_You're crazy, _she snorted, returning to her cooking. _Eggs? _she offered, smirking.

After they finally rolled off of Roxas' mattress to greet the day Axel discovered no less than thirty-two texts and twenty-one missed calls from Demyx, all wondering where he was and if he'd met his end on a butcher knife from Roxas' apartment. Rather than call Axel invited the blond over to his apartment, since he'd never actually been there before. Roxas seemed rather excited about the idea, and willingly left his apartment (after laboriously explaining what had happened to Roxas' roommates and fending Hayner and his spatula weapon off) to explore another.

They didn't head over immediately though – it was late enough that they could grab lunch on the way, leaving the moped parked in a side street. Pizza and a stop at a _gelateria_ later, Axel and Roxas ended up walking leisurely down one of the innumerable alleys hand in hand. When Demyx called yet again, Axel decided that maybe it was time to head back to his school apartment and relieve Demyx's stress.

_It's really nice, _the blond said appreciatively as they entered the main building. _The school got you a very nice apartment._

_If only the occupants matched, _Axel chuckled as he pulled the heavy cage doors to the tiny elevator. Roxas slipped inside and leaned back against the other side. _I'm going to apologize in advance, some of them are idiots and the apartment is probably a terrible mess._

_You have seen ours at the worst, _Roxas said as he pulled them closed and pressed the highest floor number.

_True, _Axel conceded. The little elevator lurched and began its ascent.

After a few moments, Roxas crossed the extremely short distance between them and put his hand on Axel's arm. _Hey, _he prompted, a knowing smirk across his lips.

"Hm?" Axel responded, meeting his gaze and wishing, briefly, for all the world that he too had a photographic memory like the blond.

_Do you remember, _he said coyly, slipping his arms over Axel's shoulders, _the last time we were in this elevator?_

Axel's mouth split into a mad grin and leaned closer. _Of course I do._ _Though I don't think picking up from there would be a good idea right now._

_Still a nice memory, _Roxas hummed, pressing his lips against the redhead's softly.

The gears pulling the elevator up squealed obnoxiously, and the elevator stalled, right on the third floor like it usually did.

Axel sighed against the blond's lips. _Stupid elevator._

An undignified squeak hit their ears moments later, and Axel's head snapped to its source – the young girl who'd seen them the first time what felt like ages ago, whose family lived on the third floor of the apartment building was there again, hands clasped together excitedly and flushed cheeks.

Roxas pulled away and jumped to get the elevator moving again, while Axel gave the girl a thumbs up. As they disappeared up to the fifth floor Axel swore he heard and extended _"Eeeeeeeeeeeeee" _emanating from a few floors down.

"That is the-" Roxas started, recognition dawning.

"Yup," Axel chuckled, pulling Roxas into his embrace and kissing his forehead, the blond's properly styled hair tickling his chin. "So – _I've got an asshole of a roommate here, don't be afraid to give him shit too._

_Ah, no wonder you prefer me, _Roxas teased, his hands squeezing Axel's ass briefly as the elevator reached its destination.

Axel nipped at his lips. _Careful, I think you left bruises last night._

_Good, _the blond said, sounding highly satisfied with himself. _Are you still sore?_

_Is that really a question to ask right before we head in to meet my friends? _Axel chuckled.

Roxas shrugged. _Just trying to gauge what I can look forward to doing later_, he said coyly, disengaging himself from Axel's arms and tugging the elevator doors open. _We both went pretty hard, _he continued apologetically.

_We'll see_, Axel said, following him out and wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist.

When Axel unlocked the door to his apartment and let himself and Roxas inside, he was immediately bombarded by a flailing Demyx.

"Where have you been? I thought you'd died!" Demyx wailed.

"Sorry I didn't call, mother," Axel retorted playfully.

"No really," Demyx said, suddenly deadly serious. "Where have you been?"

"Hello," Roxas said, waving as he poked his head around from behind Axel.

"AAAHH, what's he doing here?" Demyx demanded. "I thought he hated your guts. Are you…are you limping?"

"Uh," was all Axel could make out in that moment and that was all Demyx needed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," Demyx said loudly, his jaw hanging open. "YOU DIDN'T."

"Who didn't do _what_, you hyperactive freak?" Larxene shouted from the kitchen area.

Xigbar poked his head out from the same place. "Oh look! Against all odds, Axel is still alive!"

"Get your puny ass back here Xigbar, or I'm dealing without you."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your piercings in. Dem! We're playing poker, remember?"

"Oh yeah!" Demyx said, brightening exponentially. "Do you guys want to play?"

Axel turned to Roxas, who looked more than a little confused with all the shouting in English going on. _You know how to play poker?_

Roxas immediately turned to Demyx. "Texas Hold'em?"

"Very nice," Demyx nodded, grinning. "Right this way," he said, directing Roxas down the hall towards the kitchen. Then he tugged Axel by the collar and whispered in his ear briefly, "We're talking later. Before you leave."

"Uh, sure," Axel nodded warily. "If you want."

"Good," Demyx said, sounding satisfied. "Let's go play some poker."

Roxas, as it turned out, was quite good at poker. Axel knew he was good at cards from the numerous nights spent playing card games with Roxas' flatmates, but he'd never seen his poker face tested out against another player like Luxord, who tended to win most of their games without much contest. But with the pile of dishes now on the line, everyone else was putting their best hands forward.

Axel took great pleasure in Roxas' play against Xigbar (after he'd confided that the upperclassman was his erstwhile roommate) that won him nearly all of the other man's money; while Xigbar cursed up a storm Roxas simply smiled and bumped his fist against Axel's.

In the end the dishes were on Xigbar, and Luxord ended up taking a decent chunk of the winnings as usual. The rest was safely stowed in Roxas' pocket.

"Since I feel for you all and I'm such a nice guy," Luxord said wearily, "I guess drinks can be on me tonight. So it'll almost be like you never lost anything," he reasoned, tapping the neatly gathered pile of bills against Demyx's forehead.

"Hey lovebirds," Larxene barked, "you going to join us?"

Axel looked over at Roxas, who shrugged – then he winked, which signaled his real answer.

"No, I think we have some plans tonight," Axel answered smoothly.

Not that Larxene was ever fooled. "Translation: they're going back to fuck," she said bluntly, rising from her seat. "Let's get out of here, the bars are probably getting packed."

Demyx stayed in his seat. "I'll meet you guys over there . . . I'll call you to see where you are," he said to Zexion as he passed, who nodded shortly.

"He's in 'mother bear' mode," Zexion muttered to Axel on his way out.

"I noticed."

"I see you two talking about me!" Demyx interjected loudly. "I do not have a 'mother bear' mode," he pouted, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Right," Zexion said slowly, sarcastically. "Of course you don't." Then the younger man left, leaving Demyx glaring and pouting after him.

Axel raised an eyebrow at him. "What the hell is going on with you?"

"Nothing," Demyx answered quickly, his expression transforming in an instant as he looked back at the couple seated across from him. "So. Will you please enlighten me as to what the _hell_ happened yesterday? I can obviously figure most of it out for myself, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Axel swallowed. "Well. I left you, and went over to Roxas' apartment. We started arguing, one thing led to another and-"

Demyx stopped him. "I don't need to hear the next bit. While I'm sure hearing about how you two screwed each other into oblivion would be incredibly hot, for the sake of time let's fast forward a bit."

Roxas snickered beside him, prompting Axel to elbow him a bit in his side. "All right. We slept together-"

"Why do you say 'sleep together?'" Roxas interjected curiously. "We did not sleep very much."

"True," Axel allowed. "It's just an expression. And it was a little hard to sleep with your fingers in my-"

"TOO MUCH!" Demyx interrupted, flailing around in his chair. "I do not need to know the details of your make-up sex."

"Prude."

"I am _not_," Demyx said defensively, "a prude. There is, however, a gin and tonic waiting for me where ever those guys went, and I'd like to get to it if that's alright with you. So skip the erotic details and," he waved his hand, urging Axel on, "expressions."

"Ok," Axel said, still chuckling. "We talked this morning, and we realized that we do still have feelings for each other, and want to spend what time we can together before next Thursday."

"So I guess I'm just … a little confused," Demyx said, his puzzlement clear in his expression. "Isn't all this a bit counter-intuitive? Nothing's really changed, but now suddenly you're together again?"

"I think," Roxas started off carefully, moving his bottle in little circles across the table idly, "that now we are on more of the same page. Yes?" he looked to Axel for confirmation, at which point the redhead nodded.

"We both understand what's going to have to happen, and we'd like to end the semester as friends. Or something close to friends."

"Closer to 'friends with benefits,' I think you mean," Demyx corrected, raising an eyebrow.

'

"Dem-"

"You're setting yourselves up," Demyx cut in seriously.

Roxas shook his head quickly, surprising Axel. "We come to terms with it. If he is going to leave, I want to spend time with him before he goes. If I can say," he frowned as he tried to find the right words, pursing his lips cutely, "'you are important to me, but I must let you go' I think we will be happy."

"Well," Axel hedged, causing Roxas to look at him sharply. "As happy as possible. I think ideally it would be a 'be happy because it happened, not sad it's ending' sort of thing."

"You think you can deal with that?"

"Yes, I do," Axel answered shortly.

"Good," Demyx said stuffily, "because I don't want to deal with you whining the whole way home."

Roxas snorted at that. "This one? Whine? I can not see it."

"Six hours, Roxas," Demyx said seriously, his expression pained. "Six hours in a confined space. The last thing I want is him moping at me until I hit him."

Beneath the table Roxas found Axel's hand and tangled their fingers together. "You won't whine, will you?" Roxas asked loftily.

Axel smirked. "Only when I want to bother him."

Demyx narrowed his eyes and shook his head sarcastically. "You evil, evil being. Alright, get out. I've got places to be, liquor to drink. Go . . . do whatever you're going to do."

"What, you don't want to hear about our plans?" Axel asked innocently as he and Roxas rose.

"Shoo!"

0o0

_I like your friends, _Roxas said as he took off his coat. _They were very nice._

_Demyx worries, _Axel conceded, shucking off his boots. After visiting Demyx and the others at Axel's school apartment they stopped by a little restaurant for a late dinner.

_He's a good friend, then, _Roxas murmured, helping him with his last boot; then he slid into Axel's lap, resting his arms across the redhead's shoulders and settled his knees on the mattress. _He doesn't want you to get hurt._

Axel's hands slid down Roxas' back, eventually cupping his ass. _We might hurt sometimes, but I'd never regret doing this with you._

_You didn't answer my question earlier, _Roxas reminded him, combing Axel's hair back. _Are you sore?_

The redhead shrugged. _A little, I guess. _

_I'm sorry, _Roxas whispered, nuzzling against Axel's neck. _I wanted to go slower, but you felt so good I couldn't stop._

_What about you, huh?_

_I could feel you all day long, _Roxas murmured into his ear. _Which was what I wanted._

Axel placed kisses along Roxas' neck. _You're kind of a masochist, you know?_

Roxas hummed in response, shifting even closer until their stomachs were pressed together. _What if I rode you tonight, just like this?_ he suggested, nipping at the lobe of Axel's ear as he rolled his hips just slightly. _Nice and slow_.

_It would have to be,_ Axel said. _This angle is terrible._

Roxas shushed him. _We aren't in Pence's car anymore. Take your clothes off,_ he directed, standing up. Axel followed suit and pulled his shirt off; then Roxas, clad only in his boxer-briefs, tugged Axel down into an open-mouthed kiss, all while the blond's hands slithered into the back of Axel's jeans and cupped his ass, pressing their bodies even closer. With Roxas' help his pants were soon on the floor and Axel had turned the tables on him, sliding his hand over the blond's underwear and stroking him through the material, and thoroughly enjoying the pleasing sounds that Roxas was making in his mouth. Roxas broke the kiss, dropping his head and panting slightly as he watched Axel's hand stroke him.

_Get on the bed, _he muttered huskily, pushing Axel away.

Instead Axel grabbed the lube and a couple of condoms, stripped off his own underwear, then threw some pillows over against the wall; by the time he was leaning back against said pillows Roxas was stepping on the mattress to get to him, his erection bobbing as he went. Axel almost chuckled at the sight, but grabbed the blond's hand to help him straddle Axel's hips.

_Come here, _Axel muttered, settling the blond comfortably against him. He was probably ready not too long after, but Axel rather enjoyed the way Roxas bit his lip and the little moans he could catch when Axel fingered him – lube-slick fingers opening him up slowly, Roxas pushing back against them while sliding his tongue into Axel's mouth sensuously. Then Roxas sat back, steadying himself with a hand planted against the redhead's breastbone while the other guided his cock.

Axel moaned as the tight heat slowly enveloped him, running his hands over any part of the blond's body he could reach. Roxas tilted his head back when he was fully seated, rolling his hips in minute circles to help himself adjust. Axel himself was transfixed, taking in the sight of Roxas' expression, lost in feeling, to his completely relaxed body and the heat around him, the delicate chain and charms hanging from his neck.

Not for the first time, Axel wondered how on earth he was going to let this – this beautiful boy he'd fallen in love with, who mesmerized him and drove him crazy – go, no matter what he told Demyx or himself.

Then Roxas moaned his name, and started moving – just small motions at first, a slow rise and fall that nearly drove Axel mad.

_Roxas,_ Axel whispered, sliding his hands down to the blond's thighs and feeling the muscles tense and release as he moved. _How do you feel?_

_So good, _Roxas breathed, his pace picking up. _I can feel you so deep._

_Yeah? _Axel muttered, wrapping one hand around Roxas' leaking cock.

The blond shuddered, tensing around Axel and drawing a low moan from him. Axel began meeting his downward thrusts, still allowing the blond to control the tempo. Roxas leaned down and kissed him hotly, still meeting Axel's thrusts as he quickened his pace. His fingers combed into red locks, damp with sweat and tugged, spurring Axel on.

Axel could feel himself getting closer, the tight coils of pleasure in his abdomen becoming too tense for him to bear. He came with Roxas shuddering around him and his hand stroking the blond's cock, milking the orgasm from him, with Roxas' face burrowed in his chest; he placed a kiss against Roxas' hair, sliding his hand along his spine soothingly.

_We should really go take a shower, _Roxas mumbled several long, pleasing moments later, the words muffled against Axel's chest. For his part, Axel wasn't quite ready to move from his spot; he was quite comfortable, despite the drying come on his stomach. After all Roxas was still perfectly molded against him, his breaths shallow, and Axel was in no mood to care about being sticky or sweaty. _No really, _the blond continued seriously, the point emphasized by teeth closing gently on Axel's nipple, causing him to hiss. _We will stink._

_That never stopped us before you know, _Axel commented. He glanced over at the clock. _It's early, too._

With great effort Roxas rolled over and looked at the clock himself. _For us, anyway, _he chuckled. _I'm going to take a shower. You are welcome to join me. Then, _Roxas hedged for a moment before he asked hesitantly, _Can we watch Supernatural?_

_I would have thought you might've finished by now, _Axel chuckled. They'd only watched the first episode before they'd gone their separate ways and Roxas had mysteriously forgotten to send back Axel's DVDs.

_I did not get very far, _Roxas admitted. _The scary children episode was not fun to watch alone._

_Well I think you'll like the next one, _Axel said, giving in to the blond's call for cleanliness and rolling out of bed right behind him. _It's pretty funny._ At Roxas' questioning look, Axel elaborated. _Sam is very, very unlucky. _

_I like Dean better anyway, _Roxas said breezily, checking to make sure the coast was clear outside his door before sneaking out towards the bathroom, stark naked, before a more modestly-clothed Axel tackled him with a towel.

Just in time for Hayner to open his door, presumably to use the bathroom himself, to find Axel more or less picking Roxas up on their way to use the shower. Roxas greeted him brightly from across Axel's shoulder, but his flatmate only grumbled in return. _No one needs to see that_; then he disappeared back into his room.

There were times where it seemed as though nothing had changed, as though they were existing before Axel opened his mouth. They would sleep in Roxas' room at the apartment, eat together, go out to pubs, and watch Supernatural together. The only change was that Roxas seemed to include him more in day-to-day things; sometimes Axel would accompany him on a very brief trip to the grocery store (a rare event) but more commonly a market. Watching Roxas pick his way through produce and haggle his way out of an overpriced bundle of broccolini was a sight to behold, though Roxas didn't see what was so funny.

One thing that did change dramatically was Roxas' presence among Axel's friends rather than the other way around, especially after their poker game. Roxas still had school to go to, but it appeared they were also gearing up for final exams – twice Axel had received calls from the blond asking what he was up to, much earlier than he usually called. Those days sometimes ended up with them exploring more of the Borghese Gardens, one time they even snuck into the zoo nestled in the gardens.

But as the days passed slowly, Axel realized Roxas still hadn't broached another subject – so Axel took it up with him.

_I really think you should meet with him, _Axel said casually, resting his chin on Roxas' shoulder while the blond brushed his teeth. Roxas paused and leveled a glare at him in the mirror before bending down to spit out the foam.

_You can't fix us, _Roxas chastised. _This isn't a situation where Americans come in and can fix something so deep._

_Don't go there with me, Roxas._

Roxas cringed. _I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry._

_It's ok, _Axel reassured him, kissing the juncture between his neck and shoulder briefly. Strands of Axel's damp hair fell in his face and against the blond's collarbone. _I understand. I just think it might be a good idea to give him another chance._

_Why should I do that? _Roxas asked with a raised eyebrow.

Axel shrugged. _You gave me a second chance._

_And a third, _Roxas reminded him. Then he deflated slightly, meeting Axel's gaze in the slightly foggy mirror through the fringe hanging over his forehead. _I like you better, though, _he added.

_But he's your brother, _Axel said. _Please?_

After a moment Roxas sighed in resignation. _Fine. I'll talk to him._

_Thank you, _Axel whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek. Finished with his morning hygiene detail, Axel headed out of the bathroom towards Roxas' room.

_I better not regret it! _Roxas called after him; his tone might've been threatening if not for the nervous tambour Axel detected.

With a little cajoling Roxas agreed to go visit Cloud and Tifa, at least to see what was going on with Roxas' brother. When they arrived at Cloud's bar, Axel narrowly escaped a _cornetto_-grenade assault by Tifa, though it was hard to miss her curses against his bloodline. Roxas, his hand still entangled with Axel's, stepped in to defend him and engaged in a violent-sounding spat with her until Cloud came in, probably wondering what the hell his wife was screaming about. Tifa backed off, staring incredulously at their joined hands; shaking her head she went back behind the bar, leaving Cloud glaring impassively at both of them.

Cloud beckoned Roxas over, and when he complied Axel went with him.

_Sora's been looking for you,_ Cloud said in his deep, quiet voice.

_Yeah, I know, _Roxas huffed, stuffing is hands into his jean pockets.

_You ready to give him a chance to talk?_

Roxas shifted uncomfortably. _Not really, but what can I do?_

_Not much, _Cloud answered with a shrug. The bell signaling a new arrival rang behind them_. Now's your chance._

Roxas started. _What? Wait-_

"Roxas?" Sora said quietly.

The blond whirled around and flattened himself against the glass, staring at his brunet sibling tensely. Sora was standing in the threshold of the bar, with Riku right behind him watching the exchange unfold warily.

"Sora," Roxas answered, swallowing uncomfortably. "Riku," he nodded to the older teenager. Riku nodded in return.

Sora waved a little awkwardly at Axel, a slightly strained smile on his face; Axel nodded in return.

When Roxas didn't make any motion to move forward, Axel nudged him in the back towards his brother. The blond barely budged when Axel pushed him, but twisted around to give Axel a death glare as he moved.

Sora met him halfway, letting go of Riku's hand almost reluctantly. _Think we could talk? _Axel heard him ask plaintively. After a moment the blond nodded shortly, glancing over his shoulder at Cloud.

_Can we sit out here?_ he asked. _So we don't take up space?_

Cloud nodded serenely. _If you get too obnoxious I'm putting you in the back room._

Both brothers snorted; their expressions startled Axel slightly, the similarities between them were simply astounding in that moment. Axel watched as they sat down at one of the tables; Cloud brought over two drinks minutes later.

_I think we should take a walk, _Riku said to him quietly, crossing his arms and leaning in towards Axel slightly. _They should do this on their own._

Axel nodded, though he was a little worried the Roxas and Sora might eventually come to blows – he figured, however, that Cloud and Tifa could certainly deal with them. It wasn't his place, he realized, to try and mediate or involve himself in their discussion. _Sounds good. Let's go._

Sora and Roxas had been sitting at the table, awkward silence between them as they stroked the sides of their espresso cups or tapped their fingers against the table. Roxas' gaze immediately snapped to Axel when he and Riku turned to head out the door. _Hey!_

"Eh?" Axel prompted, cocking an eyebrow at Roxas' outburst. He almost burst into laughter when he saw the blond's expression, suspicious and bordering on a pout. _We'll be back soon, don't worry, _he reassured Roxas. _I promise._

Roxas narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, until Sora waved a hand in front of the blond's face. _They will be fine, _he said, almost sternly.

Riku got his attention again and nodded towards the door, white-silver hair swaying with the movement.

_Think they're going to be ok? _Axel asked a little bit later as they meandered through the cobblestoned streets.

Riku nodded confidently, putting his hands into his pockets. _They share a very strong bond, even though it might look like it's broken._

_I think Roxas might take issue with that statement._

_You were not there growing up with them,_ Riku said, veering into a café on a side street. _Those brothers are like magnets, they will always find a way back to the other._

Axel followed him, still feeling skeptical about Riku's assertions. _Roxas put a lot of effort into avoiding him, though, _he pointed out.

Riku sat down in one of the chairs heavily, sighing. _Sora screwed up, he knows that. But there's something to be said for Roxas' behavior too – so really they both fucked things up royally._

_Were you there? _Axel asked carefully. _When whatever happened went down?_

The younger man nodded his head shortly. _My father and I heard shouting from the main house. I went to go see what was happening._

When it didn't look like Riku was going to continue, Axel prompted him again. _Would you tell me?_

Riku looked rather apprehensive about the idea. _I really don't know the whole thing, just what Sora told me._

_And I know what Roxas told me, _Axel countered. _The truth is somewhere in the middle._

Eventually Riku nodded reluctantly. _Fine. I'll tell you._

_Four years ago, _he started, _everything seemed fine. Roxas and Sora lived in their father's villa with their mother outside Genoa. Their father is a priest, an ambitious one. He has been trying to gain the rank of Cardinal for some time, so back then he didn't visit that often. Their mother ran the villa with the money this guy regularly sent._

_Sora and Roxas had everything they wanted, and shared everything. When I met them they were nearly inseparable, running around the grounds playing at being knights with wooden swords. The trees my father so meticulously trimmed usually ended up being their designated dragon or something, _Riku chuckled fondly. _I was the gardener's son, I was supposed to help him keep the grounds looking good – but I always ended up cleaning what damage we caused._

_Sora and I started talking one day, when we were younger, and suddenly he kissed me. He said Roxas told him it was ok to feel the way he did. I wasn't going to complain, Sora had always been unobtainable in my mind – now he wasn't. I think Roxas thought we were cute, hiding out in the trees along the edges of the villa. He'd tell us sometimes about the boy he liked at school, all the misadventures they'd get into trying to find private places in the building._

_One day Sora and I were walking back to the main house after picking some apples. We were holding hands. I took the apples to go down to the kitchen, and Sora kissed me on the cheek. I didn't hear his father shouting, didn't see him slap Sora across the face hard enough to leave cuts on the inside of his mouth, _Riku said quietly, a fervent rage underlying his tone that made Axel want to take a step back. _I would have killed him if I'd been there. We didn't know he'd be coming back that day. Sora says his father dragged him inside, demanding to know what was going on with his son. And he panicked; Sora had always, always been the apple of that man's eye, the bastard had never hit him, ever. _

_He said Roxas told him it was ok, _Riku said with a sigh, rubbing his temples. _That it was ok to like another boy and kiss him. His father made him stand and watch when Roxas got home and the old man just started beating on him. It was bad, and Sora couldn't move without their father turning on him again. Roxas started threatening to tell people about them; gossip mongers had already tried to get information from the house, and Roxas would supply them with undeniable information if his father didn't stop. Roxas sacrificed his family, made their lives a living hell after he left. I don't blame him for what he did, but . . . in a lot of ways he holds Sora too responsible. Maybe he figures Sora just tattled on him, but the old man was pretty much interrogating Sora about it. And yes, Sora panicked and he's ashamed of what happened. He just wants his brother back._

Axel nodded in understanding, giving a low whistle at the whole story. _Roxas does think Sora betrayed him. Maybe they'll figure out it was just a big mess._

_Hopefully, _Riku said with a wry smile. _Otherwise I'm going to have to console Sora for the next several weeks._

_When are you guys heading back north?_

Riku shrugged. _Soon. I took a few days off and Sora's on vacation. And I take it you and Roxas are back together?_

_For a bit, yeah. I leave in a little more than a week._

Riku winced. _That's going to be kind of rough._

_Tell me about it._

A cappuccino each later, Axel and Riku headed back towards Cloud's bar. Miraculously the bar was still intact – there were no fires, no broken glass or overturned tables. In fact Roxas and Sora were both talking with Cloud at the table they'd left them at, which seemed absolutely amazing to Axel. All three brothers looked up when they entered, and the younger ones' faces lit up.

_Everything ok here? _Axel asked, though the answer was pretty obvious.

Roxas nodded, almost reluctantly it seemed. Then he rose, moving around the edge of the table until he reached Sora; Roxas leaned down and muttered something to his younger brother before kissing him on the cheek. Sora responded by nearly jumping him, wrapping his arms around Roxas' neck and hugging him tightly. The blond froze, like he wasn't sure what to do with the sudden burst of brotherly affection – finally he patted Sora's back awkwardly, then pulled away and headed for Axel.

_How are you doing? Okay? _Axel muttered as Roxas closed in, kissing the redhead briefly.

_I think so_, Roxas answered. _I'd like to go home, though._

Axel ruffled his hair. _We can do that. I think we're going to take off, _he said a little louder, addressing the others.

Sora nodded happily, rising as well. _We'll talk soon, _he promised.

Roxas gave him an encouraging smile. _We will. _Then he tangled his fingers with Axel's and led the way out the door.

_How do you feel?_ Axel asked curiously. Roxas hadn't spoken much since he'd arrived in Cloud's bar with Riku.

Roxas shrugged. _I need some time to think, _he said. _I didn't know some of the things he told me._

_It's ok, _Axel said, rubbing his shoulder. _Come on, you want a drink?_

Roxas chuckled**,** pushing Axel in the side playfully. _I don't need a drink, I'm ok. Let's just head back._

_You sure? _Axel joked. _I'll buy._

_Thanks,_ Roxas said, wrapping his arm around Axel's waist. _For making me go, too._

_I'm proud of you,_ Axel grinned.

0o0

Two days later Axel still wouldn't have changed anything with their relationship. He loved being able to spend the time he did with Roxas and all of their friends, especially with the dwindling number of days left in Europe.

One night, after several hours spent watching soccer matches in a pub a block away, Roxas and Axel headed back to the blond's apartment. Roxas went to go take a shower pretty quickly, but Axel declined; he'd take a shower in the morning. He put his flannel pants on and sat on the bed, setting up his computer to play the next episode of Supernatural. He was sprawled on his stomach, laptop leaned up against their pillows when Roxas returned, door closing quietly behind him.

A moment later he heard Roxas set the lock.

Then the mattress dipped, and a still-damp Roxas crawled beside him, hand sliding across the small of Axel's back and lips murmuring sensuously against the redhead's ear. _Hey, gorgeous._

Axel smirked, and closed the laptop screen. _Something on your mind, babe?_

_I dreamed I fucked you last night, _he whispered hotly, pressing up against Axel until he could feel the hard line of the blond's arousal, against the flesh of his hip. _You screamed so hard, so hot and beautiful, and I wanted to stay inside forever._

_I was wondering what got you all excited last night, _Axel murmured, turning his head to accommodate the blond's trail of gentle nips up his neck. Roxas had been sweaty and restless, tossing enough to wake Axel up, who at that point realized the problem. He pushed Roxas on his back, shifted so he was on his side flush against the blond, and slipped his hand into Roxas' boxers, stroking the heated flesh his fingers encountered. The reaction had been instantaneous; Roxas' whole body tensed, hips lifting into his touch, and Axel was so close he could feel the orgasm rip through him – heart racing, muscles clenching, erection pulsing in his hand, and Roxas was awake, pulling him into a deep hard kiss as he came in Axel's hand – now just thinking about it, Axel could feel his own cock stiffen. _It must've been a really hot dream._

_You have no idea, _Roxas said hotly into his ear.

Well now he was curious – and horny as hell, damn him. _Do you want to fuck me, baby?_

Roxas' breath caught for a moment before he answered huskily, _Can we do it like in my dream?_

Axel twisted and captured the blond's lips, nipping at the plump lower one._ However you want me._

_On your back, _he breathed, pupils blown and voice hushed. _I have to go get something._ Roxas flew off the mattress and started going through his top drawer, looking for something in particular.

Axel rolled onto his back with great care, the flannel cloth rubbing against his sensitive cock. Roxas returned a moment later, pausing briefly to lick his lips at the tableau Axel presented, before pulling a frame down from the wall just over the mattress to reveal an embedded hook.

Roxas was holding a few long pieces of fabric in his hands.

"Fuck."

The blond chuckled evilly and moved to straddle Axel's torso before grabbing his wrists. He wrapped the material around them loosely, just enough to restrain but not be too tight, then sat back up to loop the end of the fabric around the hook. Once Axel's arms were stretched comfortably behind him Roxas returned to his straddle his upper body, massaging his palms up the redhead's sides and chest, thumbing over his nipples and teasing them. He leaned down, curled over Axel, and began following the trail his hands made with his tongue and lips. At long last he made it to Axel's mouth, fingers holding his jaw and cock hard against the redhead's chest. _Are you ok with this? _he whispered, as if speaking would break his vision of the dream.

Axel nodded, and after another hard kiss the blond pulled away, moving down where Axel's feet were planted. His flannel pants were carefully removed, leaving him bare and hard and fully on display just for the Roxas – who was sitting back on his heels, enjoying the view.

_See something you like? _Axel teased, stretching languidly and spreading his legs a bit more.

Roxas responded with a light smack to his calf, and pushed Axel's legs even farther apart with hands on the inside of his knees while Axel's feet shifted along with them. He shuddered at the increased exposure and the warm touch of Roxas' hands over his inner thighs

_You're so hard, _the blond muttered as he stroked Axel's cock lazily and nipped at his thigh.

_You dreamed about tying me up? _Axel asked, straining to see what Roxas was up to.

_I dream a lot of things, _Roxas teased, lips pressing right at the base of his cock, making Axel shudder and twist his hands against the restraints.

_Such as? _Axel prompted, the question ending in a groan when the blond's lips closed around one of his balls.

Roxas hummed around the flesh in his mouth before releasing it with a wet pop. _Such as, _he licked his lips, _watching you touch yourself. _His mouth was back, licking a long, slow trail up the underside of Axel's cock – and Axel vaguely heard the sound of a cap being popped open. _Fucking your mouth and coming all over your face _– tongue licking over the head, he was so hard now – _letting you fuck me while someone else fucks you, or maybe it'll just be us and I can slide a dildo inside you and fuck you with it. Maybe even you fucking me against a wall, so hard and deep – _words punctuated by the lube-slick fingers sliding into him and stretching him out.

Axel moaned deeply, shifting his hips again and Roxas' fingers probed deeper, curling until Axel gasped and saw stars. Then his fingers abruptly withdrew; Axel kept his legs spread, his erection hard against his stomach and leaking a clear trail as he shifted. The sound of a condom wrapper and lube sent shivers of anticipation up his spine.

And there was Roxas again, slicked hands lifting Axel's legs by his knees, the blunt head of his cock pressing at Axel's entrance. _Want my cock? _he asked huskily. _Want me to fuck you?_

Axel raised his head briefly, taking in the erotic sight of Roxas curled over him before his head flopped back against the mattress. _Want you in me, now, _he growled, his wrists twisting in their confines.

Roxas leaned down and nipped at the skin just above his hipbone, smiling wickedly. Axel's world abruptly narrowed as he felt the blond's cock at his entrance again, this time pushing forward and deeper, drawing a low moan from Axel's throat.

There was something raw and intense about that single moment, when Roxas was fully seated but not quite ready to move – all his concentration focused on maintaining his control while Axel tensed around him. Axel loved being inside Roxas and fucking him, but he loved this even more, when the blond was buried deep and the roll of his hips sent shudders up Axel's spine. Nothing else would ever compare.

_Feel so good, _Axel managed to breathe, arching his back and testing the restraints around his wrists. His legs came to wrap around the blond's waist, urging him on.

All of a sudden there seemed to be too much for Axel to process because Roxas was moving, testing his boundaries as they settled into a new, hot push-moan-pull rhythm that Roxas set. It wasn't long before Axel could feel himself begin to unravel – from the hot slide of the blond's dick, slick flesh between them, to the added excitement of his restrained hands and wet, open-mouthed kisses, all convalescing around him.

"Rox," Axel gasped. _Please. I want, please want to touch you._

"Shhhh," Roxas whispered soothingly, pressing a finger to Axel's lips – a sharp contrast to his stiff, powerful thrusts that were nearly sending Axel over the edge. Roxas' hand stroking his cock in time with his movements finally took Axel over, his back arching clear off the bed, his hands twisting as he moaned, tensing around Roxas again. The blond groaned, thrusting stiffly a few more times before Axel felt his dick spasming inside him and Roxas collapsed beside him, pulling out and panting against Axel's arm.

_How many, _Axel asked slowly, still catching his breath himself, _of those fantasies do you have?_

Roxas chuckled breathlessly. _Enough_, he answered, reaching up and untying Axel's wrists.

_You're going to make me walk funny for a week,_ Axel commented, only half joking as he immediately wrapped his arms around the blond.

_Only a week? I might be losing my touch._

_You? I doubt it, _Axel chuckled.

Eventually they did get around to watching an episode later, after they'd recovered and Axel had gone to take a late-night shower. They were lying very comfortably on Roxas' mattress, Axel spooned against Roxas' body and watching the laptop screen over the blond's shoulder. They were halfway through season three of Supernatural by now, which wasn't saying much since the writers' strike had cut production off. The brothers were arguing, and Axel could feel the tenseness build in Roxas' body clearly.

"Does Dean die?" Roxas asked quietly, his voice sounding rough.

Axel shifted on the mattress and looked down at the blond. "Spoilers, Rox."

"But Sam, he cannot stop it," Roxas argued. "Dean will die."

"Yeah," Axel sighed, giving it. "Sam will have to let him go."

Roxas frowned deeply and turned back to the screen, sinking into silence for another few minutes. Then he burst into frustrated ranting, _These two have got to be the stupidest, but I guess they god it from their dad, this whole family's just falling all over themselves to die for each other WHO THE HELL DOES THAT?_

_I'd like to point out that your family is a little different, babe, _Axel chuckled, tracing his finger in random patterns over the blond's abdomen.

_Yes, we are normal! We don't want to die for each other! Hell, most of the time we hate each other!_ After a few more minutes of ranting the blond settled down again.

Then

_Why don't they just make out already?_

After a beat wherein Axel attempted to contain his unbecoming snort of laughter, Axel responded through said laughter, _Can we not get into Wincest right now?_

Roxas pouted, shifting back against him; Axel snickered into Roxas' shoulder and went back to watching the episode.

_You're not going to be like that, are you?_

_Like what?_ Axel asked quizzically.

Roxas shifted, swallowing uncomfortably. _Not let go._

Axel felt his heart drop into the vicinity of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and placed a kiss between the blond's shoulder blades. "No," he responded bravely.

_Good answer._

Roxas was silent for the rest of the night.

Time marched on, the days passing like grains of sand filtering to the bottom half of an hourglass.


	13. Track 12: The Investigation

**Title:** Moped Romance  
**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

**Warnings: **Boys speaking Italian, language, references other things relating to sex, drama.  
**Rating: **R.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Sugarcult. There was an alternative song here for a while, please youtube it and give it a listen: "Con Te Partiro" by Andrea Bocelli.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** Four days.

Track 12 – The Investigation

_Watching it burn to your fingertips_

_Everything stings a bit_

_Dangerous silence surrounds you_

_All of the ashtrays and magazines_

_Recurrent love themes_

_Captured by time zones that hurt you_

_If I could be a part of your world_

_Leave this all behind_

_I would investigate a perfect life with you_

_If I could say it in another way_

_If words could make this right_

_I would investigate a perfect love with you_

Time is a bitch.

To a freshman arriving at college the next four years are an eternity; the potential of those years is almost inconceivable – anyone can plan out their college career, can prophesize where they will be on graduation day and where they are going. Sometimes they're pulled in another direction, and most of the time their plans don't go exactly as they foresaw. Ideas change, people change. But inevitably a day comes when the infinite amount of time in four years to accomplish this or that disappears and becomes _not enough_ – usually when you need it the most. The last semester, the final hours before a paper is due there is simply never enough time, it just seems to speed up.

Axel was acutely aware of time's bitchiness; he'd been cursing it for a few days now.

His time was almost out.

There was still one last language exam to take care of, but then? Mere days until he'd be ushered onto a plane, his Roman life zipped into suitcases and stuffed into his backpack, watching the city disappear out his window. Four months of living in Rome had come down to only around a hundred hours, and every passing moment felt more fleeting than the next – especially the time he spent with Roxas.

Roxas himself was trying very hard not to count down the hours. Sometimes Axel could see it in his eyes, the days reduced to hours, minutes and seconds, penetrating stare memorizing the lines on Axel's face, the hard swallow in his throat that made Axel think 'dread.' It made him wonder if they'd made the right choice staying together like this until the end.

Then again, the alternative made the redhead's heart clench something painful. They'd be ok, he told himself. For now, they could be happy.

The weekend had gone far, far too quickly – but that was time again, fucking with them. Time made Axel more adventurous, made him more willing (than usual, anyway) to give into Roxas' whims and fantasies, as seen by the new video file on his computer that would probably never see the light of day again – Axel just hoped his computer never got hacked. Roxas spent a bit of time helping him review his more traditional vocabulary and grammar, as well as the more colloquial language Axel had learned. The blond, after a . . . thorough revision, deemed his sexual vocabulary in good shape, as well as his normal set.

When Axel finished his language exam late Monday morning, he stayed behind and chatted with his Italian instructor for a few minutes as the man commended him on his progress with the language. Axel eventually revealed that his secret weapon was in fact an Italian boyfriend.

_Then congratulate him as well, _the man said proudly. _You're a spectacular student._

Axel nodded and thanked him, then headed out to meet a waiting Roxas. Once Axel was out of the doors Roxas pulled up in front of him on the moped.

The weather was gorgeous, and Roxas decided their destination was the Borghese Park. They stopped at one of the local markets, picking up some ciabatta bread, a package of freshly shaved _prosciutto_, a block of fresh mozzarella and a handful of greens. While Roxas was engrossed in picking out ingredients, Axel nipped into a little store and grabbed a bottle of wine and, to his excitement, a box of Baci chocolates he and Roxas enjoyed a great deal.

They found a shady spot beneath a tree deeper in the park and sat down to make their sandwiches. Without wine glasses they simply handed the bottle back and forth, taking sips of the sweet white concoction Axel picked out.

_How did your exam go?_ Roxas asked.

Axel put the wine bottle down. _It went really well. My professor wanted me to tell you thanks for being such a good teacher._

Roxas smiled to himself, unwrapping one of the chocolates carefully. The silver and blue foil gave way to reveal the mound of chocolate and hazelnut deliciousness. Roxas popped the chocolate into his mouth and pulled the wax paper quote – Axel thought of them as high-class fortune cookies – from the foil.

He looked at it for a few seconds, staring silently, before stuffing it into his pocket wordlessly. In the process he jostled the necklace and charms out from beneath his shirt. Axel was overcome by a bit of curiosity.

_Will you tell me about your necklace? _Axel asked quietly, fingering the delicate chain and lifting the dangling charms a little higher. _What do they mean?_

Roxas paused, spreading out his palm so the charms were splayed out. _It was a gift from my parents, _he started, the tip of his finger gliding along the thin braided silver to the cross. _From when I had my first communion. My mother added the coral-_

_Isn't that a chili pepper? _Axel interjected, eyeing the squiggly gold charm.

_No, _Roxas chuckled, _they used to make them in Florence with pieces of coral. Then they started making these._

_And the ring?_

Roxas didn't answer for a moment, his finger playing over the bright blue stone. Axel realized the ring was too small to be his. _It was my mother's, _he finally answered. _Before I left . . . I took it from her dresser. So I would have her with me._

_You miss her, don't you._

_Course I do. Something like ninety percent of Italian men live within a few blocks of their mothers, didn't you know that? _Roxas laughed, the sound incredibly pleasing to Axel's ears. _I'm more than a few miles away from mine._

_Maybe you can go visit, now that you and Sora are ok, _Axel suggested.

_I'll write to her first, _Roxas hedged. _I made her life difficult too when I started talking. She might not want to deal with me, _he added with a shrug.

_Sora might be able to talk some sense into her._

Roxas shrugged again. _I'll try not to get my hopes up. This is all I have left of her – it's precious to me._

_Well, it's good you have it. When something is precious you shouldn't let it go._

Axel realized hemight've said something wrong when Roxas looked at him sharply, his mouth set in a thin, firm line. _What if I have to?_

The redhead froze. He was precious? _Then I think we're both out of luck, _Axel said thickly. Just like that, the happy and contented mood shuddered and keeled over, stone dead. Axel paused, then looked down. _Have you considered somehow being able to keep in touch with-_

Roxas shook his head, cutting him off. _Do we really want to watch each other move on? _he asked, chuckling bitterly.

_It would still be nice to talk with you once in a while._

_It's late, _Roxas stated simply. _Maybe we should head back._

_Sure_, Axel agreed, somewhat reluctant given the dropped subject. _We can probably finish up Supernatural if you'd like._

_Only if you don't spoil anything else for me, _Roxas joked, helping Axel to his feet.

Dinner was only slightly somber; Roxas didn't seem to be in such a talkative mood as he usually was. It was only later, after dinner but before they'd decided to start watching the last few episodes that Roxas finally broached the subject of their remaining days together with him.

_How do the next few days go? _Roxas asked quietly, tilting his head on Axel's chest.

Axel took a few moments to think, trailing his fingers idly across the blond's shoulder and arm. _I have to pack. Do last-minute gift shopping, and make sure everything is good at the school. Wednesday we have a class dinner, then we meet at Termini Thursday afternoon. _He paused, frowning in thought. _What are you thinking?_

Roxas shrugged. _Nothing, _he said, too quickly to be telling the truth.

_Tell me?_

_What is . . . an American date like?_

Axel shifted onto his elbow to get a better look at the younger boy lodged at his side. _Why an American date?_ he asked with a little chuckle.

_Because I took you on a Roman one! _Roxas protested. _So what's an American one like?_

_Well it's not always dinner at a gay bar with all of your friends, _Axel said with a grin, rolling them over so Roxas was on his back while Axel leaned over him. _There isn't really a universal 'American' date – a lot of people do the 'dinner and a movie' thing._

_Doesn't sound very hard._

Axel shook his head. _Not really. Most of the time people will go out to dinner, eat, get to know each other-_

_Just each other? _Roxas clarified.

_Yup. No friends._

_I knew… I knew they were usually smaller. So then they go to a movie?_

Axel nodded. _And if they really like each other, maybe they'll make out for most of the movie._

Roxas set his jaw and poked Axel solidly in the chest. _Take me on an American date!_ he commanded.

_You just want to make out in the back of the theater, _Axel said knowingly, his eyes wrinkling with mirth.

Roxas looked affronted, but Axel could tell he was trying to keep himself from laughing outright. _Of course not! _he protested, the corners of his lips quirking up. _It's called cultural exchange!_

Axel fell into chuckles, resting his head against the blond's shoulder. _Ok then – tomorrow, _Axel promised. Tomorrow was Tuesday.

0o0

Tuesday morning Axel woke very slowly, surprised to find Roxas lightly tracing the tip of his finger over Axel's bottom lip and over his jawline. Roxas was smiling fondly. _You were drooling on my pillow_, he whispered, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Tuesday night, Axel and Roxas went on a date.

Truth be told, it wasn't that bad – Axel was used to things blowing up in his face, and he really couldn't complain about how the night progressed. After spending most of the day lounging, finishing up Supernatural, and sitting out on itty bitty apartment terrace nursing drinks they got dressed and headed out on Roxas' moped in search of a good _trattoria_ to eat at close to a theater. Eventually they found one, and after sharing a bottle of the house wine as well as several delicious courses they fought over the bill, much to their server's amusement.

Once they settled that there was the movie. Axel didn't remember the name, but it was something artsy, with the typical bittersweet open-ended _'finito'_ that some Italian directors seemed to favor. Or at least that's what Axel figured it was, since there was still a considerable amount of wine in his system and Roxas – as usual – made it very difficult to concentrate. There were, fortunately for him, a larger number of people in the theater than they'd anticipated, so Roxas' plans for the movie were put back a small step.

But only a very small step, judging by the fact that three-quarters of the way through the movie Roxas was in Axel's lap, his tongue making itself very familiar with Axel's.

When the movie was over, Axel was quite pleased. It was pretty obvious what they'd been up to given the state of their slightly rumpled clothing and reddened lips. Roxas' hand was solid in his, squeezing and reminding him of the present.

_Come, _Roxas said enthusiastically. _I want to show you something._

It was late now, somewhere in the vicinity of two or three in the morning. The cool night air whipped around them as Roxas drove, the fabric of their jackets and pants fluttering in its current. Axel had lost track of where they were, but he could have sworn they'd just veered off of Corso Vittorio.

When Roxas eventually slowed down and came to a stop, Axel looked around, completely puzzled. It was a narrow cobblestoned street, quiet and dimly lit; it looked like any of the other back alleys in Rome at night to Axel. _What's going on, Roxas?_

_You don't remember this? _Roxas asked as Axel climbed off and they both removed their helmets. Roxas shook his hair out to get rid of the rampant hat head he was dealing with.

Axel shook his head. _No clue._

Roxas dismounted the bike, leaving his helmet on the seat, and put his hands in his pockets. _This is where we first met._

"It is?" Axel blurted. _I couldn't have remembered it if I'd tried._

Roxas hummed at that. _And the second time, too._

_Are you serious?_

_Of course I am, why would I make that up?_ Roxas responded, a little waspishly.

_Ok, ok. _

_This is where we began, _Roxas said quickly. _Sort of, anyway. I wanted to come back here before . . . the end._

Axel felt like Roxas had punched him in the gut, hard. _Is this, _he swallowed thickly, _is this the last time I'm going to see you?_

_What? What, no! We still have all day tomorrow, idiot, _Roxas muttered fondly. _Just to bring it full circle here._

Axel nodded slightly in understanding, feeling the weight lift a little. Then immediately he began to worry; the sheer possibility of not seeing Roxas after tonight had nearly shocked him to his core. How would he deal with it when they had to say goodbye, really?

Wait.

_Why were you here that night? _Axel asked curiously. _It was really really late, and this place is nowhere near your apartment. Did you just happen to pass by going home from a club?_

Roxas blanched, looking away quickly and scratching the back of his head. _No, _he chuckled, a little bitterly. _No, I was . . . my ex lives around here, _he said with a sigh.

_Your ex? _Axel repeated, wondering what story there was to this.

_He wasn't my ex at that point, _Roxas corrected. _I'd gone to visit him earlier. We got into an argument – totally normal for us – and I decided to just go back to my apartment. I was driving down this street when I saw you huddled on the side of the street. You were gorgeous, and I was feeling petty and thought you'd want some fun after I got you back to your apartment, _Roxas admitted with a shrug. _Then when we got there, you just looked at me with this, this expression – _he shook his head, unable to find the right word to describe it. _No one had ever looked at me like that, even Leon._

_Your ex-boyfriend, _Axel clarified.

Roxas nodded. _Well, you know how that ended. You puked, I punched, should have been the end of it. I started bothering Leon about it, you know, 'why don't you ever look at me like that, all you're interested in is my mouth and my ass,' _he muttered bitterly. _We broke up. Then I met you again, and I guess I figured 'why not.' When you didn't call back, _Roxas said slowly, obviously trying to keep his tone even, _I thought maybe you were just like him._

_When we met for the second time, you were here too._

_I was thinking about getting back together with him, _Roxas admitted reluctantly. _He'd called, trying to get me back. We argued again, and there you were again. It was really fucking weird. _

Axel paused for a minute, taking it all in. _Leon's the guy you were with two weeks ago. At Cube._

Roxas didn't say anything, which was all the answer he needed. Not that he was jealous, not at all. _Thank you for bringing me back here, _Axel said, wrapping his long arms around Roxas' shoulders and pulling him in despite the stiffness in the blond's stance.

_I'm not coming back, _Roxas muttered fervently. He swallowed dryly as Axel looked down at him curiously. _I always went back to him, but not anymore._

_It's ok you know, Roxas. If he makes you happy-_

_He doesn't_, Roxas growled, cutting Axel off forcefully and pressing his face into Axel's chest. _He made me feel better, like I was wanted. But, _his voice almost imperceptible, _you make me feel more._

Axel buried his nose into the hair at the top of Roxas' head, massaging his hands over the blond's spine in a calming motion, willing their combined emotions away for the time being.

0o0

When Axel woke the next morning to Roxas grinding his morning erection against his thigh, Axel merely grinned and quickly began to enact his favorite mode of waking Roxas up; he didn't even have to think about it. He guided the blond onto his back and shimmied down his smooth, taut body, tugging Roxas' boxers down his legs along the way. For a few moments he watched the way Roxas arched into the cooler air, the muscles in his abdomen tensing, cock bobbing against the coarse blond hair just above it.

Axel shifted the blond's legs farther apart and knelt between them, wrapping his long fingers around the base of Roxas' cock and delivering a long lick to the weeping head. Roxas moaned, arching into his touch and tongue with a choked gasp. Axel looked up through the strands of red hair hanging in his face, taking in the blond's slackened jaw and watching as his lips moved around half-formed phrases. His hands found Axel's hair and gripped, thrusting up slightly into the redhead's mouth.

Axel wasn't in that much of a rush though, taking his time licking the shaft and sucking, thoroughly enjoying the sounds Roxas was making above him. Just to feel the blond's reaction he moaned around his cock, relishing the quake of muscles beneath Roxas' skin.

Only when Roxas lifted his head and muttered his name in a curious tone did Axel take him all the way to the root, feeling the head of his dick slide all the way to the back of his throat. He heard Roxas groan, felt his orgasm begin between his lips and pulled back, stroking the blond through his climax. When Roxas flopped back against the pillow, the tension in his body drained and panting, Axel gave the head of his cock one last lick before sitting up on his knees and stretching. _Good morning, _Axel said, licking his lips.

_Morning, _Roxas responded. But when he looked back down again, Roxas was watching him with sad eyes.

Then Axel realized what day it was, and felt the air sucked clean from his lungs.

Wednesday had dawned, deceptively like any other day which it most certainly wasn't. Tomorrow Axel would be on a plane. Tomorrow he'd be watching the Italian coastline disappear from view.

Roxas too had stilled, his fingers still curled around the back of Axel's neck, as he had also realized the significance of the morning. Then he pulled Axel in for a quick kiss, tasting himself on the redhead's tongue before pulling away. _Let's go shower, _he murmured, pulling Axel up with him.

Like any other day.

It was almost painfully ordinary, painful enough to make Axel feel sick. The idea of _one day_, twenty four measly hours, made his stomach churn and his heart clench – made him freeze when he felt Roxas' soapy hands on him, reminding him of what he'd soon be missing.

Roxas, ever perceptive, withdrew his hands reluctantly. _What's wrong?_

_Don't give me that, you know what day it is, _Axel said testily, scrubbing the shampoo from his hair vigorously.

_It's the same for both of us, _Roxas reminded him, voice taking on an icy edge. _We talked about this day, so don't treat me like that._

_Then stop pretending it's like every other day, _Axel threw back snarkily. _Not when I can't touch or see you after today._

_This isn't about just you! _Roxas finally shouted, turning on him with a horrified expression. _We, Axel, we. This is our last day and . . . I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. We decided this was how we were going to end, and if we can't handle it, _he cut himself off, breathing deeply as he shut the water off. For a few moments there was only the sound of draining water between them. _I'm sorry._

_That was me, _Axel murmured regretfully, his forehead dropping on the blond's wet shoulder. _I'm sorry, that was me being stupid. I'm feeling stressed by everything. I shouldn't have said that. _

_It's ok, _Roxas said quietly, petting his hair comfortingly. _Just remember you're not the only one in this, right?_

Axel nodded. _Love you._

_Love you too, _Roxas whispered, kissing the shell of his ear. _Now get out, I'm getting cold._

Axel chuckled and let him go, stepping out of the shower to grab two towels. He tossed one to Roxas, who toweled his hair dry before wrapping it around his waist and getting to work on his morning routine.

_I have to go finish up my packing at my apartment, _Axel said as he toweled himself dry.

_Alright, I'll go with you, _Roxas offered, styling his hair with gel. He paused and looked over his shoulder at Axel, offering a small smile. _Help you bring your stuff over._

_Thanks._

Back in Roxas' room, Axel was putting everything, _everything_ that belonged to him in his backpack. He paused when his hand closed on the DVD case; they'd finished the third season of Supernatural the night before, much to Roxas' displeasure. He'd weathered the last episode rather well, considering Dean's inevitable end and Sam's inability to save him.

As he looked around the room for any of his other belongings that he might have missed, he came across a photo frame he hadn't noticed before. It was nestled on a rather messy bookshelf along with several other frames containing pictures of Roxas with his friends, some he knew and others he didn't. But this one was of him and Roxas, both smiling happily as Axel carried him piggyback near their favorite picnic spot in the Borghese gardens. Axel could remember that day with startling clarity: the sun shining in the clear blue sky, the grass beneath his bare feet and between his toes as he carried Roxas, Hayner and Olette climbing the giant tree providing them with so much shade; Naminé sitting between the roots, sketchpad and pencils out and working away diligently, and Pence, camera poised, calling out their names and snapping the photo.

Axel hadn't even thought about it – it certainly wasn't a big deal, he had plenty of pictures of himself and Roxas to call his own. But this was something of Roxas', something the blond would look at and remember – unless the memory became too painful and the photo was hidden away. Here they were together, inseparable, frozen in time just as two people ridiculously in love with each other. All too quickly, they would simply become a memory.

When Roxas came back into the room, looking fresh and ready for a day riding around the city, Axel was still looking at the framed picture Roxas had of them, his thumb brushing over the blond's face absently as he stood transfixed.

"Axel," Roxas prompted sharply, causing him to jump and look up at the blond. "What are you doing?"

"Just," Axel started, mind coming up blank. _Wondering what I'm going to do, _he answered lamely, wondering if he sounded more pathetic with or without the unspoken 'without you.'

"You are going to live!" Roxas said forcefully, the emotion behind the words drawing his accent out more. "This is not the end."

_It's the end of us, _Axel argued half-heartedly.

Roxas shook his head, closing the distance between them. _This is not us, _he said, covering the picture with his hand. Then he put his hand on Axel's chest, right over where Axel's heart was thudding painfully. _This is. _

_I don't know if I can do this, _Axel whispered desperately.

_Look, _Roxas said, sighing through his nose before he started to speak much faster. _Ok, here's the thing. We're not some psychotic Romeo and Juliet couple, right? I didn't fall in love with someone who'd going to kill himself or never let himself love again because we won't be together anymore, __**right**__?_

_No, I'm pretty sure you made your distaste for Romeo pretty clear_, Axel muttered.

_Good. Because love is about life – if you can't live without someone you've become a parasite, and if you stopped being who you are because you didn't want to live without me… I'd be heartbroken, Axel. So this is what I want,_ he said thickly, putting the photograph aside before grabbing Axel's hands and squeezing them. _I want you to go home, and be happy. That's what I want for you, because that's what you deserve._

_Hey, _Axel interrupted, pulling Roxas in closer; Roxas dropped one of Axel's hands as it moved to cup his cheek. _That's what I want for you too. You are worth so much more than I could ever give you._

_Oh, shut up, _Roxas said, his voice even thicker still.

_Hey now, I'm serious. I love you, but I don't want to be the reason you never look at another guy again._

_Don't flatter yourself, _Roxas chuckled, draining all possible poison from the remark. _What is the phrase? If you love something…_

_You let it go, _Axel finished, his heart thudding horribly in his throat. This hurt, but he was beginning to feel the pain lessen somewhat, if that was possible._ You alright? _he asked, placing a chaste kiss on Roxas' forehead.

Roxas nodded. _I think I'll be ok. Though, after that cliché, I may never look at you the same again._

_You started it_, Axel shrugged, wondering if he could sort out the emotions of leaving before Roxas hit him.

0o0

When they got to Axel's apartment, it was empty. Suitcases were haphazardly piled all around, with bags containing keepsakes and gifts taped together in hopes of passing them as another carry-on bag.

The first thing Axel packed was everything from the bathroom; he left it accessible for the morning, but he wanted to make sure he had it. Then came his clothes, dirty and clean, all shoved indiscriminately into his suitcase for washing . . . later.

Roxas was sitting at the foot of his bed, absentmindedly eating Xigbar's cheez-its.

_I'm not coming, you know, _Roxas said suddenly, resolutely. _To the airport. _

_Didn't think you would, _Axel responded, continuing to fold up his remaining clothing.

_I don't want this to be some long, tragic 'goodbye,' _he continued, as if trying to justify some act of heartlessness. _We're better than that._

Axel looked up from his packing, glaring steadily at the blond, who was looking at him nervously and twisting his hands together anxiously. He abandoned his folding and grabbed Roxas' forearm, pulling him in and kissing him soundly. Roxas made a small sound around his tongue before giving in and wrapping his arms around Axel's neck; for his part Axel tried to memorize the taste of his mouth, cigarettes and the salty candy he liked and the citrusy fruit he picked out from the stands.

Roxas smacked his arm and pulled away. _Don't miss me._

Axel's hand lingered on his arm for a moment until he finally had to let go. _You know I will, _he chuckled to himself.

_Sap, _Roxas muttered fondly.

Axel put the last few articles of clothing into his suitcase, and with some difficulty (read: he asked Roxas to sit on it so he could actually pull the zipper) managed to get it closed. Then he stepped back and felt the ground beneath his feet disappear. All of his belongings save the clothes he wore now and a few other smaller items, were packed up in his suitcase and backpack. His room was bare and horrendously clean, save for Xigbar's waiting bags. There was nothing left in this room that was his, and within twenty-four hours all that _was_ would be in the belly of a plane, bound for JFK airport in New York City. The entire apartment felt empty, a complete shell without the rambunctious antics of its soon-to-be former tenants; all traces of them had been wiped clean. Demyx was right, Axel thought as a cold stone settled in his stomach. Their time was ephemeral, and when it was over anything that remained of them was swept away in preparation for the next wave of students studying abroad.

Axel tried to swallow, but his mouth was completely dry. He sat down on his bed heavily, rubbing his temples and trying to calm himself down.

Roxas was there almost instantly, muttering endearments and curses as he guided Axel's head out of his hands, his fingers gentle as they tilted his chin up. Axel felt a deep ache in his chest throb and threaten to explode; the blond was smiling sadly, tracing his thumbs over the tattoos on Axel's cheeks. Then he stepped between Axel's knees and let the redhead wrap his arms around him; Axel buried his face into Roxas' chest, and immediately felt the blond's fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head and rest against his shoulder, holding him there.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, one holding the other more tightly as time itself became nonsensical. Axel figured he could have stayed like this just fine, there were hundreds of thousands of worse options than being held together by Roxas' arms.

Then with a kiss to the top of his head, Roxas gently tilted Axel's head back to look at him again. _Your dinner is soon, _he muttered. _I can take you over there, if you'd like._

_I don't think I'm in the mood to sit and talk about how excited I am to go home, _Axel said with a shrug. _Mostly because it would be a lie._

_What if, _Roxas bit his lip in thought, _what if we make dinner, and we can talk about how amazing it was to be here? I can bring you back here later, _he offered. _You can even invite Demyx and a few others, if you'd like._

Axel smiled and felt his chest ache again. _I'd like that._

Roxas pulled him to his feet as soon as he spoke. _Send them a message, we have shopping to do._ Then he gave Axel the mad grin he'd come to associate with 'adventure time' and his boyfriend.

The two immediately set off on the blond's moped, leaving the empty apartment behind them. Axel sent off messages to Demyx and Zexion to gauge their interest as they arrived in a large outdoor market bustling with activity. Roxas pulled a giant shopping bag out of the compartment under Axel's seat, and dove right in.

Within a short period of time they were lugging around about two pounds of potatoes (_I make my gnocchi from scratch!)_, a bunch of colorful vegetables, several loaves of savory-smelling bread, blocks of cheeses, and after a trip to the butcher shop on the outskirts of the market, prosciutto and some pancetta. At this point Demyx got back to him, saying he and Zexion were interested and asking what they should bring. After a few seconds of thought Roxas responded with _Wine. _

Axel relayed the message, as well as where they could find Roxas' apartment. _Didn't think they'd want to miss the class dinner, _Axel commented.

_Well I'm glad they did, _Roxas said briskly, setting the shopping bag in the footwell of his moped. _Last suppers should be spent among friends. _

_How exactly are we going to make all that food before dinner?_

Roxas sent a devious grin his way as they put their helmets on that clearly said to him 'you're my willing slave, aren't you?'

Not his only one though, since all three of Roxas' flatmates came out to help him prepare the meal along with Axel. Very soon the intoxicating aroma of fresh spices and herbs filled the apartment, along with the sounds of vegetables being cut up and rowdy conversation.

Axel became Roxas' right hand man in gnocchi-making, mixing whatever ingredients Roxas told him to in a giant container before being assigned to start forming the little dumplings.

_No, like this,_ Roxas said quietly, reaching over and guiding Axel's hands to demonstrate how to roll them.

Axel chuckled, following his example. _Think we're going to have enough?_

Roxas glanced at him sharply. _Of course!_

The redhead grinned and stole a quick kiss.

_Get a room!_ Hayner shouted from his tomato-chopping station.

Roxas turned and glared at him; Axel called out, _I'd be careful, Hayner – he's armed._ Roxas brandished his giant wooden spoon intimidatingly.

Eventually all of the gnocchi went into a boiling pot, and the tomatoes were stewed into a sauce along with the pancetta. Asparagus was wrapped in prosciutto and drizzled in oil and stuffed in the oven. Artichokes sizzled on the stovetop, leaving no cooking spot available. Once the asparagus was done Pence's veal dish quickly replaced it. But something was clearly missing.

_Where's the wine? _Olette shouted as the actual preparations died down.

Axel checked the time on his phone. _They should be here soon._ Then the little phone started ringing, Demyx's name popping up over the little telephone icon. "Speak of the devil. Demyx!" he greeted his friend.

"I think we're here, can you let us in?"

"Is the wine here?" Olette asked quickly. At Axel's nod, she announced "I've got it!" Then she disappeared out the door.

A few minutes later she reappeared with Demyx and Zexion in tow – as well as what looked like four bottles of wine. Olette looked ecstatic.

_Est! Est! Est!_ she cried, coveting one of the bottles.

"You guys sure you want to skip out on the dinner?" Axel asked as they handed over the other bottles.

"Are you _kidding?_" Demyx demanded. "This looks like so much more fun, man," he said, patting Axel on the shoulder.

"Who is the head chef?" Zexion asked, sniffing the fragrant air. "I might have to kidnap this person."

Axel wrapped his arm around an unsuspecting Roxas' waist, a highly satisfied and proud smirk on his face. Roxas started, turning and looking up at the redhead perplexedly. Then he saw Axel's friends. _Mister head chef,_ Axel murmured, tipping an imaginary top hat at him.

Zexion, looking deadly serious, got down on one knee. _Come home with me, please, _he whispered fervently.

_I'm flattered, _Roxas said._ You can go on the waiting list._

Axel paused. Then he and Demyx spoke simultaneously, in two different languages with two different inflections; Demyx in awestruck English, Axel in a mockingly accusatory Italian tone: "There's a waiting list?"

Dinner was flat-out amazing; there was no other description to be found for it. Roxas was truly a secretly-talented chef, though he refused to take credit and said they should thank his mother and the cook he used to bother at their house farther north. The food was beyond delicious, savory and scrumptious; the veal melted in Axel's mouth, the flavors blooming with each bite. The gnocchi were tender and perfectly paired with the simple, yet flavorful sauce. Wine and water were passed around liberally along with the loaves of fresh bread he and Roxas had found earlier. It summed up the culinary experience Axel had in Rome. How would he be able to go home and eat anything else, that is to say 'less.' What could he possibly eat that would overshadow this meal? Everyone got along beautifully too, as if they'd all been friends for years – even Hayner, ever prickly around Axel, seemed to relax and laugh more. For a few hours, Axel forgot about everything. He forgot about the suitcases back at his apartment, the stress of the following morning, the impending plane. Life was positively beautiful.

Then, in the middle of shared joyous laughter, Axel caught Roxas' gaze; Roxas too was laughing, his smile broad across his face, cerulean blue eyes alight with humor and happiness – and Axel felt himself fall all over again.

Roxas' happy expression fell suddenly by degrees, the light and love draining from his face.

As if everyone else was catching on to the dying mood, the rest of the table fell into silence. Then Pence and Olette shared a glance, and they both smiled encouragingly. "It is late," she said, grabbing an emptied plate. "We should clean, I think."

Axel put his hand on Roxas' arm, nodding his head in the direction of the sink. _Let's go help._

When they were done with the dishes, no one seemed to know what to do. Finally Olette tackled Axel, hugging him tightly as they exchanged kisses on either cheek. She touched his cheek, her grin wavering. "I am happy to have met you, Axel. Go well." Then she released him, allowing Pence and Hayner to wish him goodbye as well.

Roxas approached him somberly after. _I'll take you back,_ he whispered.

"Axel, are you coming or…" Demyx asked loudly, trailing off when he looked back noticing Axel lingering back with Roxas.

Zexion caught on immediately. "We'll see you back at the apartment," he nodded, dragging Demyx behind him.

"We'll, ah, we'll take a cab," Demyx offered hastily and unnecessarily, seeing as they'd arrived via cab, leaving Axel with the other residents of Roxas' apartment.

"I'll wait up," Olette promised, and Roxas nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

They headed out into the courtyard, finding Roxas' old white moped not long after. Roxas offered Axel his helmet and said quietly, _Let's go for a drive._

Axel held on tightly, his arms wrapped around Roxas' waist as they drove at a remarkably leisurely pace for the blond. The bright lights and lanterns lining the main streets blurred together and reflected in the water as they drove over the Tiber. Roxas wasn't taking him back to his apartment – at least not yet it appeared, and he was just fine with that.

When it didn't appear that Roxas was going to stop, Axel realized he was giving him one last look at the city and its eternal beauty. He let himself take it all in, the images overwhelming his memory until he just couldn't do it anymore. Still he prayed to whatever deities were listening to slow time – just to slow it for a little while so he could stay with Roxas longer.

Despite all off Axel's internal pleas to slow time, they pulled up in front of Axel's apartment far, far too quickly. Roxas killed the motor on the moped, leaving Axel with a distinct, overwhelming feeling of defeat. He slowly dismounted the moped, fingers fumbling at the helmet strap under his chin. Roxas mirrored his movements, and put his helmet down on the seat; Axel suddenly had to realize, this was it. There would be no Facebook communication for them – Roxas had shut that down quickly, he didn't want to try and maintain what they had over the internet. After this, Axel was gone – another student who came and went.

Axel trailed a knuckle over the open V of Roxas' shirt, realizing for the first time that the blond wasn't wearing his omnipresent necklace and charms. _Where's your necklace? _he asked curiously, lightly touching the top of Roxas' scar.

Roxas knocked his hand away and tangled his hands in Axel's hair, pulling him down level with Roxas' face forcefully. Lips were against his immediately, the kiss hard and wanting and everything they had been together; tumultuous and tentative at times, marked by an overwhelming desire to remain with the other, lingering and beautiful even when it came to an end. Axel found himself stealing smaller kisses just to keep from having to pull away, his hands grasping desperately at Roxas' jacket as the blond tugged at Axel's hair and dragged his nails across his broad shoulders.

It was Roxas who ended it, whispering in Axel's ear; then his hands formed a vice-like grip on Axel's upper arms and forcibly kept him in place as Roxas withdrew from his embrace. Axel stared after him, ignoring the empty feeling is his arms and chest as Roxas fumbled with his helmet and swung his leg over the other side of the bike and kick-started the engine. A quick glance over his shoulder, and Roxas was gone.

As the sound of the blond's moped dissipated and it disappeared around a corner, Axel finally moved, his feet shifting like lead to unlock the door to his apartment building.

"Ci vediamo," Roxas had whispered. _We'll see each other. _Axel hoped he was right.

0o0

Two mornings.

The first:

When Axel woke early Thursday morning, he stared at the ceiling of his room blankly for about an hour, watching as the rising sun slowly creeped along the ceiling. Not even Xigbar's snoring could bother him. But once everyone started to wake up, chaos reigned. They had to finish packing. They had to clean the apartment one last time, and get all of their luggage out to catch the bus to Termini. From that point it was a train to the airport, then customs, then . . . a six hour trip to the east coast.

"Let's move," Lexaeus said in his booming voice. "There is a bus heading towards Termini in half an hour."

"Some of us might need to call a taxi," Xigbar chuckled snidely, looking at a few well-stuffed bags that would probably prove difficult to carry.

"Let them decide on that then," Lexaeus said with an uninterested shrug.

"Did anyone leave anything behind?" Demyx asked for the fifth time, just for good measure. "If you leave it you'll never see it-"

"They get it, Dem," Axel sighed, cutting his best friend off as he hefted his own heavy bags.

"Just making sure," Demyx said defensively. "You know how jittery traveling makes me."

"Get your jitters out now," Zexion said pointedly, "because I am NOT putting up with you being twitchy and obnoxious the whole way back. I WILL KILL YOU," he said, his voice ringing threateningly.

"I thought I was sitting with Axel," Demyx responded, sounding confused.

"You are," Zexion clarified. "But I'm sitting in front of you, and if you spend six hours kicking my chair I will break your nose, among other things." Then the smaller man headed right for the door, not looking back.

"Oh," Demyx squeaked, his eyes wide. Even his expertly-styled Mohawk seemed to deflate.

Axel snickered. "That was funny."

"So glad I could be of some amusement," Demyx grumbled, throwing his backpack across his shoulders.

The late April sun made a walk around Rome quite pleasant – but not so much for those dragging heavy suitcases and backpacks laden with clothes, souvenirs, technology and keepsakes. They made for quite a sight, and Demyx had even mentioned feeling like he was part of a herd of pack-mules. Just walking down the street to catch the bus had become a chore, made even worse by trying to fit everyone and their luggage into a relatively well-packed bus.

A fast-paced walk to the Leonardo express was the only semblance of fresh air they got before being herded onto the stiflingly hot and crowded high-speed train. Due to lack of seating, Axel found himself sitting on top of one of his bags in the hallway of the train, rocking back and forth numbly as it rocketed down its track.

Fiumicino Airport was just as Axel remembered, he thought as he finally collapsed into one of the chairs in their terminal after what felt like hours of standing in line to check their bags, to go through security and customs and finally get to the right section. Their plane hadn't even arrived yet.

The second:

Roxas knew he was rushing.

The exam meant almost nothing to him; he could almost do it in his sleep. English came much easier to him now, the words and spellings flowing as he scrambled through his essay.

He'd already sent Axel a message, but something nagged at him deep in his chest – a soaring, churning feeling that whispered _go go go go_ in his mind.

So he went, finishing up his essay without a second glance and rushing for the door, Olette cheering him on from down the hall.

0o0

Axel hated waiting.

The plane had finally boarded, and despite several vocal arguments with stewardesses about the size of some carry-ons it appeared they were getting ready to leave the gate. He hated how sick he felt, a constant sensation of something being crushed against his chest making it difficult to breathe.

Axel leaned down and looked out the tiny airplane window, trying to get one last look at Fiumicino and its wide glass panes; he could vaguely see their boarding area as the plane began to move slowly. His heart suddenly lurched – Roxas was standing right behind the panes; he looked like nothing more than a ghost reflected in the glass, his palm pressed flat as if trying to break through. Axel felt his heart rip in two; it was screaming _he came, he came! _and _what are you doing, you can't leave now_, but Axel knew this was it. The end, period, full stop. The plane was moving, already drawing away from the gate – and Roxas already looked farther away than he'd ever been.

As they pulled away from the airport and onto the runway one of the stewardesses came around and reminded him to turn off his cell phone. Axel started and nodded, pulling out his phone from one of his pockets. He blinked owlishly; there was a 'nuovo messagio' icon taking up the screen. As she walked away Axel opened the message, his heart racing.

_Check your backpack,_ was all it said.

Axel turned the phone off like he was told and pulled his backpack out from underneath the seat in front of him, brows furrowing in confusion. What could be in his backpack? Did Roxas leave him something?

After some searching and sifting through his belongings in the bag, his fingers closed upon an envelope whose origins he didn't know; he pulled it out from underneath a set of clothes, then stuffed his backpack back under. It was small and plain, and there was something in the envelope, heavier than paper and much bulkier. He opened it up and tipped the contents into his hand.

It was Roxas' necklace – the one Axel never saw him take off, its silver chain still carrying each of the charms Roxas kept. The one he'd called 'precious.' Axel fingered the chain and charms reverently, feeling his heart swell ridiculously in his chest.

A wide smile spread across his face; the text could have said he'd won a million dollars, or maybe even a new car, or any number of amazing things – he wouldn't have cared one bit. This was worth more than all of that.

Demyx was saying his name curiously, but Axel didn't hear him at all.

Not even Larxene's invasive questions about it or Xigbar's snide remarks could take this moment away from him.

This was his, and his alone.


	14. Track 13: Don't Forget to Breathe

**Title:** Moped Romance [the bonus track]

**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas

**Warnings: **nostalgia, fluff.  
**Rating: **PG.  
**Beta: **the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
**A/N: **Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Merrill Amos.

**Summary: **Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

**In this chapter:** What, you think I'd leave them like that? Maybe there is a happy ending around here somewhere . . .

**One last note: **Merrill Amos is actually a singer/songwriter/musician and former classmate of mine, she recently released her first CD on iTunes. She opened for Safety Suit when they were on campus, and this particular song really caught me as appropriate. Give her a listen! She has her own website, .com – click under 'music' and scroll down to "Don't Forget to Breathe."

Bonus Track – Don't Forget to Breathe

_Oh the world says I haven't loved enough to know_

_That this time I'm falling_

_Maybe I don't wanna get up_

_Girl said, I know that you're not here with me,_

_Don't know if you'll ever be_

_But I'm madly in love with the idea_

_I know if you can hear me now_

_Don't say a word_

_But just breathe out the sounds_

_I know you got me figured out_

_And all that's left is air between us now_

_So don't forget to breathe_

_And I've stood on both sides of the ocean _

_knowing better than to call this a dream_

_It just wouldn't be life without finding the right one to need_

_We've all got our reasons_

It had been seven, almost eight years when Axel took his first steps on Italian soil again, twelve hours of travel at his back when he reentered Fiumicino airport. Sitting for that length of time had put a crick in his back and neck, so once they were clear of the door and the other passengers rushing along Axel stopped and stretched, groaning as the kinks were worked out. Then, surrounded by a weary-looking group who clearly thought he was insane, he breathed in the smell of the espresso five feet away, the _cornetti_ filled with nutella and cream just behind the turned to the young woman standing beside him, grinning excitedly. "How's the six hour trip treating you?"

The young woman looked about to drop. In fact, all of the students Axel had just led off the plane looked to be in about the same condition.

"What is this, don't you guys know where you are?" he asked, dumbfounded by their lackluster reactions. It was, granted, two in the morning in Rome and a lot of the kids hadn't slept at all on the plane, but _still._

"How much farther, Professor Sinclaire?"

Axel would never tire of hearing the 'professor' bit. "Still a little ways. Everybody got everything? Is everybody here, no one needs to use the bathroom or anything? Good, let's move!"

Eight long years, but at least he could still speak Italian. It had been rusty at first, relearning alongside his students the previous semester, but had most certainly improved. Originally just a faculty advisor for the trip, Axel had jumped at the chance when one of the teachers asked him to take her place. His master's program and full-time job had kept him stateside for the last eight years; he'd watched his friends all return for spring break or the summer, mentally shaking his fist at them as they sent him Facebook messages from the Abbey.

The nostalgia was something he dealt with on a daily basis; when he first got back home he had trouble adjusting – not even the butcher shop carried the prosciutto and pancetta he liked to cook with, nothing tasted the same, he had to actually _drive _again. For a while he thought very hard about opening a restaurant that served actual Italian food; he could tell it was bad when he had to stop himself from crying "Travesty!" at the sight of meatballs in his spaghetti, because really, no self-respecting Italian cook would do such a thing. His parents had stopped taking him to Italian restaurants after that, though Reno fully encouraged that behavior since it put the waiters in a panic.

He longed for espresso and _cornetti_, not the watery coffee and oily croissants he received along with wide-eyed fear (for his sanity) instead. He longed for saltimbocca, for _pasta cacio e pepe_, for the incredible wonders that lurked, just waiting to be discovered – a famously decorated chapel with Caravaggios on three walls tucked away in a church boarded up for repairs but still open to the public, the ultimate art supply store behind three different churches and an almost impassible labyrinth of alleys, the _gelateria _in a tiny alcove that produced new flavors each week and welcomed a few lucky customers present at its unveiling to name the new flavor. He missed the markets, wandering around to each stall and marveling at the vibrant colors and myriad of smells. The dubbed-over American cartoons and strange Italian serials, walking on cobbled streets thousands of years old. The aromas of freshly baked bread, of fragrant, drying meat from the butcher shop, the multitude of scents associated with all of the different cheeses.

So finally, after he'd been working hard for seven years and the head of the program asked him to come along, Axel didn't even pause.

But now, with five months to spend roaming his favorite place ahead of him, Axel was starting to get a little nervous. Far deeper than any of the nostalgia he felt for Rome was the thought of the blond who had made the trip more worthwhile by a thousand fold, the boy he'd loved and had to let go. With a population of over four million, Axel was almost certain his chances of finding Roxas were zero. Even if Roxas was still living in Rome there was almost no way – and by now he might have moved on, back north to his family's house or to some other city. He might've even fallen in love with someone else – and if that was the case and he _did_ find him, what then? They had agreed, after all – moving on was perfectly acceptable and expected; Roxas didn't want Axel to waste his life away thinking he was the only one for him, and Axel wholly agreed. _Find someone, be happy_, they'd told each other. So far Axel hadn't found anyone he liked enough to stay with, though not for lack of trying – but he was happy.

Axel often thought of the blond, his face etched in memories and memory cards, preserved on them and his computer for when he missed him the most. He still wore Roxas' necklace, so stealthily hidden in his backpack before his departure – though he had also added a charm of his own, an elaborate, antique key that reminded him of the blond's shoulder tattoo somehow. It was the only thing he had _from_ Roxas, and even then he thought of it as a very important, intimate part of him; in all their time together Roxas had never taken it off, but had told him it was precious and not something he'd give up easily – _much like you, _Roxas had said softly, humming when Axel kissed him soundly.

Anything could trigger a memory, or make Axel think of him – when Lady GaGa released the videos for "Bad Romance" and "Telephone" Axel watched them avidly and laughed to himself, knowing Roxas would be manically practicing and perfecting the dance moves like the fanboy he was. Despite his dislike of GaGa, Axel purchased "The Fame Monster," listening to it over and over again, each song reminding him even more of his Italian former boyfriend. He wondered if Roxas ever achieved his dream to dance with her. A waiter putting a plate of saltimbocca in front of him – Roxas' favorite dish; seeing the actors who played Emmett and Ted on 'Queer as Folk' appear on 'Bones', Demyx's favorite show and the mandatory Thursday night TV after they got an apartment together after moving to upstate New York for jobs; an old Vespa in the window of a repair shop, waiting for some soul to claim it – all brought something back to him.

The first few months were the worst. There was a vaguely harrowing episode over the summer after his return – Zexion sent him a link to an Italian news story about someone torching Qube to the point of it needing to be rebuilt entirely, which sent Axel into a panic. They found out later no one had been inside, so that eased Axel's mind somewhat – following that announcement he'd been trying desperately to get his Italian cell phone working again just for a message, but to no avail. Any memory would feel as fresh and sharp as if it were new.

As time went on it changed; Axel wouldn't say things got better per say, or even easier – he simply felt more numb to the pangs of loss and sadness. His longing waned until it was a dull roar rumbling in his chest, still acknowledged but largely ignored for the sake of his sanity.

Then his colleague turned to him and asked, "Would you go in my place?"

It had been as if the last few years of his dulled longing never happened. Axel wondered if he'd screamed his answer in her face, the other professor always seemed to flinch now whenever he turned to speak with her. Nevertheless, everything was a blur after that.

Axel never looked back.

0o0

After settling into his apartment – a decent-sized flat between the Scuola Leonardo da Vinci and, Axel had laughed extensively, La Montecarlo pizzeria – Axel started wandering, locating their former haunts and immersing himself in the memories. They were as fresh and clear as they were eight years ago now that he was back in his favorite city. The Borghese park, the hill behind the Vatican, the pizzerias, Coming Out, Qube – now renamed 'Muca II'; he returned to them all, hoping for a glimpse of an old white moped or a blond, blue-eyed – man. The wheels in Axel's brain came to a crashing halt.

Roxas would be twenty-four now.

That was just plain weird. Axel could only visualize him as the sixteen-year-old boy in a leather jacket with headphones and oversized sunglasses. All he had as a template for an older Roxas was Cloud . . . which didn't quite click in Axel's mind.

The places had changed, though some veritable institutions had survived the years and proved themselves almost as resilient as the unchanging ruins of the Forum. The staff at the Abbey Theatre was different, newer and a bit younger than Axel remembered, leaving him wondering where Oliver, Sam, Theresa, and Sandro had ended up. Some of the storefronts had changed, businesses had turned over – Cloud's bar included. The new owner had no idea where Cloud and Tifa had relocated to, but he did know it had something to do with children.

One day, after stopping in to talk with a representative at the American University, Axel even ended up outside the apartment building that had once housed Roxas and his friends. The person who answered the buzzer definitely wasn't any of them though, but Axel knew all four of them couldn't have stayed in the same place for eight years.

Regardless of being unable to find any familiar faces, Axel was confident this stay would be just as amazing. After all, he was back in the city he'd been dreaming about for years – what could possibly be better?

The first day of classes Axel met his students in the secretary's office of the Scuola Leonardo da Vinci, a very familiar and unchanged institution. For a little bit he was stuck holding court with the other professor leading the trip, hearing the timeless complaints about roommates and any issues with the apartments. Everything was going according to plan – they hadn't lost anyone, everyone had kept their baggage together, taxis had taken everyone to the right place. Then the ageless director of the scuola caught his eye, and Axel asked the students to simmer down. The older man welcomed them to Rome and the scuola in heavily accented English, then talked a little about the history of the scuola and what they offered.

"Now I know Professor Quinn and I discussed your teachers here, but there has been a small change. I had to replace one of your teachers with another one, that is all."

The door opened behind them, bell chiming to signal someone's entrance behind them.

"Signore Pietrino will be taking over one of the classes."

The world fell into hushed silence. All Axel could hear was white noise as he turned, mind screaming 'WHAT?' and 'IT COULDN'T BE.'

There was a young man in the doorway now, a young man with impeccably-styled blond hair and big blue eyes staring at him with an identical expression of utmost disbelief, jaw slack and eyes wide. He was taller, courtesy of seven-almost-eight years, leather coat newer than the one he remembered, a green and white houndstooth scarf around his neck. He was even carrying a helmet in one hand. The blond was staring, and Axel's heart felt ready to beat right out of his chest because _it was him._

_It was Roxas _and Axel couldn't help but wonder if he recognized him – Axel's hair was shorter, still untamed and red, and maybe he wore glasses now but it wasn't that much of a change. It had been eight years, after all.

That question was answered when a heavy silver helmet hit the floor and bounced, rolling away from its owner, forgotten. Which was when Axel remembered that Roxas _couldn't_ forget him thanks to his nearly photographic memory, and Axel grinned like a man possessed.

Then Roxas let out a rather undignified sound and leapt at him.

Axel caught the flying blond easily and wrapped his arms around Roxas like a vice, lifting him in the embrace until Roxas' feet left the floor. Something wet – lips – was pressing against his ear while Axel marveled at how _real_ Roxas felt, wrapped up tightly in his arms, and how _right_ this felt – how well the pieces lined up despite the last eight years. No one else in the world could possibly know happiness like he did.

When Axel finally got around to releasing the blond, his students and the rest of the staff were staring at them with wide, confused eyes. Roxas turned to him and muttered, _Your class, professor?_

_Be good to them, _Axel chuckled.

_Will you wait until after we are done?_ Roxas asked hopefully.

_I will, _Axel nodded.

_Good._ Then Roxas turned to the class, as if nothing had transpired between him and one of their teachers, and greeted them enthusiastically.

Axel waited out in the piazza in front of the scuola, going over some of the student paperwork that had been left undone. The students filed out an hour later, greeting him as they passed; it was a little bit later that a set of motorcycle boots planted in front of him and didn't move.

"Ti sei perso?"

The hint of amusement in the tone brought a wide grin to Axel's face as he looked up. Roxas had his helmet under his arm, and the sun cast right on his hair like a halo. "No, aspettavo una persona." _I'm waiting for someone._

Roxas held out his hand; when Axel grasped it tightly Roxas helped hoist him up off his stone seat.

_Let's go for a walk._

They sat and drank in a new bar up the street, espresso warm between their hands as they talked, figuring out where their lives had taken them. Roxas had, in fact, auditioned for a spot as one of Lady GaGa's background dancers for part of her European tour – "I danced to 'American Boy,'" he said with a quirked smile - but a torn ligament in his ankle had effectively dashed the dream of performing with her. He was however ecstatic to announce that she was a really cool person and had visited him during his brief stay at the hospital following the audition. After that he focused on getting into university and finding a new job; the one at the Scuola was mostly temporary, as he was hoping to get into journalism at some point.

_I watched your plane leave, you know_, Roxas said. _I was there, but you didn't see me._

_I saw you. Very stealthy, by the way_, Axel said, amusement creeping into his tone as he tugged the chain that had once been Roxas' out from underneath his shirt.

Roxas sipped his espresso, a smile spreading to his eyes. _I like it better on you_, he said, fingers reaching out to touch the charms that dangled in front of him. _I arrived too late though. I wanted to say goodbye_.

_We did say goodbye – before, at my apartment._

_Again_, Roxas clarified. _In the last moment I weakened, and … I didn't want you to go._

_I almost ran off the plane_, Axel admitted.

Roxas smiled broadly, if a bit embarrassed. _So you are back. For how long?_

_Five months_, Axel answered.

Roxas nodded.

_Enough time to start over_, Axel said, his gaze hopeful. _If, you know, I'm not too old for you._

Roxas looked back down at his espresso, drumming his fingers against the small ceramic cup. _If we were to start over, I could not accept five months_.

_What if I accepted the position I've been offered at the American University?_

Roxas started and stared at him for several long minutes, eyes brilliant and wide with hope and _maybe, just maybe this could work_. The image of an apartment somewhere in the city, with them cooking in the little kitchen sprang to Axel's mind – of meeting Roxas for lunch between classes, driving around the city, eating lunch in the squares, all tantalizing and ready for the taking. They were all set before him, all they had to say was _Yes. _

Roxas looked back down at his cup, still smiling brilliantly, and said, _Let's see where this takes us, right? We have been apart for many years._

"Yeah," Axel grinned, already planning his letter of acceptance for the position. _I can do that. And this time we're on the same page._

They finished their coffee and paid, eventually deciding to go on a little joyride before parting again; it had been many long years since they'd been together, but when Roxas led them to his ancient white moped it was almost as if no time had passed. Time had changed them both, enough for Axel to know that, as they took the old moped for a spin, things would be different this time around. This time Axel had no time limit, no hesitation, and no qualms about starting over (what he _isn't_ ready for is the chaos that reigns when Roxas takes over his apartment with all of his _stuff_, but that's beside the point) since fate had brought him back to the only place where he felt like he truly belonged.

All roads still led back to Rome.

0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o

Now I'm done.

Right?

Yes.

Thanks to everyone who read this and put up with my odd posting schedule/lapses/long periods of absence/general craziness. Special thanks to everyone who reviewed and kept me going with encouragement, concrit and flailing 3

Also thank you to my lovely betas for putting up with me for so long – and for cracking the whip when it was necessary.

This story started out as a one-shot back in February/March of 2009, based on an almost-unbelievable night as related to me by my dearest friend José. He was out drinking one night, and after a little bit too much he called me at three AM, waking me out of a deep sleep. He asked me for directions home, then promptly got lost. He was, however, saved by what he described as 'an angel on a moped' who gave him a ride back to his apartment, then accompanied José back up to his apartment. He obviously made it a little farther than Axel ;)

But anyway, this is how the whole thing started: "Jen. You are NEVER going to believe what happened last night."

I can't tell you how many times I heard that over our study abroad.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this little adventure. If you have any questions about it leave me a note, and I'll try to get to it as fast as I can.

Cheers 3


	15. Epilogue: American Boy, part 1

Title: American Boy [1/3]  
Pairing: past Axel/Roxas

Warnings: language, nostalgia  
Rating: PG-13  
Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
A/N: Moped Romance was originally inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009; this developed out of the desire to see what happens to our boys after the final chapter.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. This epilogue's theme song is "American Boy" by Estelle. Give it a listen; it's perfect.

**Summary: **In which there is such a thing as a happy ending.

**In this chapter:** Roxas has a strange encounter on New Years' Eve.

**Author's Note 2:** This is meant to take place about a week or two before Axel lands back in Rome with his students for their study abroad. Enjoy!

New Years Eve in the Eternal City always had a certain hold upon him. The city, already beautiful and glorious, came alive beneath his and millions of other feet pounding across the cobblestones; ancient buildings lit up and guided the way for those roaming the streets in search of the next bar, the next party, before the city rang in the arrival of the new year.

Six of Roxas' New Years Eves had been spent in Rome, with this promising to be the seventh after spending two years up north with his family. As much as he had come to enjoy his family's company (except for his father's, though that was a lost cause anyway) Roxas felt overjoyed to be back in his city, surrounded on all sides by his friends once more. On this night the world began anew; when the bells at St. Peter's tolled and the video screens at Cube 2 switched to all zeros, the Earth started on yet another 365 revolutions around the sun – the perfect time to start fresh.

After spending several months in the hospital and in rehab, the better part of the last year had been spent living in his mother's villa, learning to live with his brother without killing him, and working when he could find a position. Jobs were still hard to come by, but Roxas was already thinking about moving back to Rome at that point. Through a little finagling and a lot of luck a position opened up at the Scuola Leonardo da Vinci for a long-term substitute teaching higher-level Italian to international students. When he worked at the tiny internet café in town for long hours, he'd spent every free moment studying his English books so that he'd be able to communicate with them better. There hadn't been much need for any bilingual skills since . . . well, they weren't necessary in most of the jobs he'd been taking, so Roxas was fairly rusty when he started studying again.

He didn't talk about the person he affectionately (and sometimes harshly) referred to as 'the American.'

'The American' was a touchy subject with Roxas, even after seven years – the last few had definitely softened the taste of bitterness in his mouth when he said the man's name, and now it carried a more wistful tone. They'd both known what was going to happen anyway, so what was the point in feeling bitter?

Roxas was adamant that the American rarely ever entered his train of thought anymore, but Olette and his other friends knew differently of course. They knew Roxas would never account for the playlist on his iPod – creatively labeled 'shitty stupid songs' – that reminded him of the American, and neither would he explain the disappearance of his precious necklace (not that he needed to) nor why there were tourists' guides to various American cities hidden in his bookcases. All of these things simply _were_, and nothing anyone did would ever change that – now they were as timeless as the medieval churches tucked into corners along the streets of Rome and the clubs that never seemed to die.

Cube 2 was thriving, pulsing with the heavy bass coming from inside the club when the taxi pulled up. There was a line, sure, but Roxas just nodded to the burly bouncer and walked right in with Olette and Hayner on each arm. Inside the beat was far more overpowering and glorious; music sang like the gospels in his head, pulling him onto the crowded floor in to a fast-paced, hypnotic rhythm. Roxas danced with so many people that night, he lost track. He really didn't care – there was too much alcohol in his system to, and hell it was fun to dance.

As the clocks started to count down the seconds to the New Year, Roxas found himself standing in the middle of the dance floor, staring.

Roxas had downed about four shots of _Patron_ and a very strong iced tea when he saw him. Immediately he knew he was a mirage, a figment of his imagination – a ghost his heart had tried to forget. Roxas had managed to forget a lot of other men over the years, but the American had always been there in the back of his mind, never really leaving at all. It was actually pretty ridiculous as far as he was concerned, because really – it had been nearly eight years, but Americans never really had the manners to know when to pick up and leave anyway . . . His American remained completely lodged in a tiny corner of his memory, never to be removed.

And yet there he was, standing just across the dance floor, out of reach; the vision Roxas had was pristine and absolutely clear, making the American's bright vermillion hair and Technicolor green eyes pop in the middle of the dimly-lit, fog-filled room. The tattoos under his eyes stood out deep purple against his pale skin – and maybe it's a trick of the light bouncing off the disco ball, but Roxas is sure he can see glitter painted on the American's skin.

Yup. Definitely a mirage. The American only wore glitter in drag.

He looked gorgeous, though. He was all in black, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to reveal his exquisite forearms, collar open to the center of his sternum, to play up his collarbone. And the smoldering look in his eyes was dead set on Roxas – he couldn't escape, not that Roxas wanted to ever again . . .

The mirage of the American smirked like the ass he always was, then turned around and disappeared into the darkness of the club amid the rush of sweaty, glittering bodies counting down until the clock struck midnight.

Roxas was absolutely shaken by that moment; why did his _Patron_-filled mind bring _him_ back into his thought process after so long? What was the point of that, to remind him of another year gone since he'd said goodbye?

Unfair, Sir _Patron_, Roxas mentally chided the liquor in him.

Even though at one point Roxas had feared his memory, he found himself very much ok with seeing him again. After he left, Roxas had berated himself over the decision – but what else could he do? He'd been foolish enough to (maybe) fall in love with the American, here on a semester abroad with a reckless, fun personality. And since Roxas couldn't – wouldn't – pick up his life and move to America for someone he'd only known a few months, instead he sent a part of himself with the American. That was the best he could do.

He wondered what the American was doing.

Roxas realized that he wasn't just ok with seeing him – even imagining him, but that his memory was actually pretty comforting.

In the end Roxas threw himself back into the fray, amid the wildly dancing bodies, welcoming the glitter that stuck to his skin as they counted down the minutes. When he got back to his apartment hours later, he looked at the clock and thought, _Happy New Year, Axel._


	16. Epilogue: American Boy, part 2

Title: American Boy [2/3]  
Pairing: Axel/Roxas

Warnings: language, nostalgia, fluff, sex of the boy/boy variety  
Rating: PG-13  
Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence  
A/N: Moped Romance was originally inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009; this developed out of the desire to see what happens to our boys after the final chapter.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. This epilogue's theme song is "American Boy" by Estelle. Give it a listen; it's perfect.

**Summary: **In which there is such a thing as a happy ending.

**In this chapter:** Roxas' side of the reunion, and some of what comes after.

There was a certain amount of ridiculous about the whole situation that literally threw Roxas for a loop; less than a week beforehand Roxas had been startled by the sudden, spectral appearance of the American, and now his flesh-and-blood counterpart stood in front of him wearing a similarly dumbstruck expression. Roxas hadn't been expecting this – Sinclaire, he figured, was probably a common enough name in North America that there was simply no way in all of Dante's layers of hell that it would be _his_ Sinclaire. It was impossible.

And yet there he was, definitely real and staring at him with this nervous and startled expression that made his vibrant green eyes pop like emeralds behind dark-rimmed glasses. He was beautiful and vibrant like Roxas remembered so vividly, tall and lanky and maybe a bit more muscular than before; his jeans fit nicely on his wide, bony hips (it was good to know some things never changed about some people) and the V in his shirt collar was low enough to display his defined collar bone that Roxas had spent long nights biting hickeys into. The long red mane was cut a little shorter, but still hung in layered spikes that fell to his neck, framing his long neck and strong, sharp jaw. His emerald eyes were wide and still staring intently, and though it seemed like several long minutes had passed while Roxas assessed every inch of his former lover's body it had really only been a few seconds. _He's back_, was all he could think. _Axel's back._

Roxas' brain went into rewind, flashing back to the February night he'd first met Axel – drunk, lost, desperate, and almost too gorgeous to be real, climbing on the back of his moped and clinging to Roxas' waist tightly as he wove through the streets to take Axel safely back to his apartment. He remembered the look in Axel's eyes when the redhead clambered off, remembered wanting Axel to invite him in so he could push the redhead up against a wall and kiss him senseless – Roxas also remembered punching Axel out when he unceremoniously pitched over and vomited all over Roxas' boots, but that wasn't the most attractive part of their relationship anyway.

He remembered meeting Axel again and again, remembered thinking that the universe – or God, or something – was putting this idiot American in his path deliberately to annoy him or, as he thought later, for much better reasons, no matter how cruel it was. Every moment came rushing back to him, along with every heart-stabbing emotion that his wayward American had brought – affection, disdain, embarrassment, hurt, hope, and love; it washed over Roxas like a tsunami wave, surrounded and overwhelmed him, leaving Roxas feeling like he'd been struck dumb simply by his presence. He thought he'd seen the last of Axel on the plane, that tiny, brief glimpse of red from his spot beside the gate; Roxas figured he'd held and kissed his American for the last time all those years ago, and honestly he'd made peace with that prospect.

But this, this was just fine with him.

The only coherent thought that went through Roxas' head was _Does he remember me?_ Then corner of Axel's mouth turned up in a flickering smile, revealing just the slightest glimpse of his white teeth, and Roxas swallowed hard. _Yes, yes he does._

The helmet he'd been clutching in his hands fell to the ground, bouncing away against the ceramic tile floor, and Roxas' face split into a wide grin as he leapt forward, barreling into Axel's long arms and his comfortable, familiar embrace. He couldn't help but grin when he felt the charms from Axel's necklace, once Roxas', dig into his cheek as he hugged him. The fact that there were about twenty university students staring at them didn't faze Roxas in the slightest; for all he knew he was seventeen again, and Axel had abandoned his plane back to the United States to meet him in the terminal.

He didn't know where that fantasy came from, really.

That was just the easy part.

The hard part starts when they begin hanging out together again, and they have to come to terms with how different they both are.

Roxas isn't the seventeen-year-old break-dancer with an attitude he left behind – he's twenty-four, and looking to get a degree so he can go into journalism. He doesn't dance anymore, not after injuring his ankle, but he still likes to go out to the clubs and have a good time. Roxas' English is much better, and from their conversations Axel can tell he's patched things up with his family for the most part, though his father is no longer part of the picture.

Axel isn't the twenty-one-year-old student with too much on his plate anymore, either; he'll be twenty-eight by the end of the year, with Bachelors and Masters degrees under his belt. He's grown up a lot, and worked hard to get there. Axel's more confident now, quick with a smirk and a retort – even in Italian, which seemed to both throw Roxas off and spur him on even more when they got into spats.

All in all, Axel really liked being back in Rome. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the cities he'd been living in for the last few years, and it brought back all of the nostalgia in full force – even though Axel knew he would make the most of it this time around. He willingly went out and played the part of the tourist, taking pictures and going to different sites but most importantly, taking his time to see the things he'd tried to cram in last-minute all those years ago.

Axel and Roxas officially began dating in early February, when Roxas was no longer needed to substitute teach for Axel's class – they both thought it was a good idea to try and maintain some semblance of professionalism, even if they were secretly sneaking off to make out in a closet or going on midnight adventures on Roxas' moped here and there. They were officially dating by early March, but within a few weeks of that announcement Axel's apartment was littered with things belonging to the blond. In fact Roxas' laptop, two thirds of his extensive shoe collection, about half of his clothes, a pile or two of his textbooks, and his helmet had all migrated to Axel's place within that short period of time, mostly because of how often Roxas came over. The blond didn't often stay the night, but when he did it was usually to use Axel as a human pillow and more or less take over the bed.

Axel had asked him about sex one night, and whether it was something he was interested in; it wasn't that Axel was trying to rush, but for him it seemed almost too much sometimes to have the warmth of Roxas' body flush against him, but to be denied anything more than touching. Roxas, in response, had raised an eyebrow at him. Roxas really did want to have sex again; it was something that he missed whole-heartedly, and the thought of being with Axel again after so long set a fire in his stomach. But he didn't want to rush into a relationship with the redhead like he had years ago; Roxas wanted to take this a little slower, to take the time to relearn how Axel thought and acted and what made him moan and hiss under his fingers.

That didn't mean nothing physical had happened between them, though; there had been a lot of kissing since they started meeting for dates, and a few memorable occasions had ended with slow, hot hand jobs that left them both red-faced and panting. After that, Roxas left. He didn't often sleep over, but when he did he usually took Axel's couch.

All of this was perfectly fine with Axel – he was just ecstatic to be with his long-lost blond again, and was willing to take things slow if he wanted to – until Roxas snapped one night.

Axel had made dinner – successfully – and after sharing a couple beers together he got up to do the dishes. He'd put their plates in the sink, and was about to start washing them when he felt the warmth of Roxas' body press up against the length of his back, felt Roxas wrap his arms around him, felt the hardness of his erection pressed against his ass. After that it was a blur of rushed hands and quick sound of zippers sliding, of denim being slid down to reveal sensitive skin and their shared gasp as they found each other again. Roxas pressed Axel against the counter, bending and sliding oil-slick fingers into him gently, stretching him a little more hastily than Axel might've needed. With Roxas' hot breath between his shoulder blades the blond pushed inside, and Axel moaned deep and low as he slid home. His legs were shaking, trembling as they struggled to support him; Roxas' fingers tightened around his hips, his voice small as he whispered something unintelligible, buried deep inside Axel. When he started to move, Axel couldn't help the sounds filtering from his mouth as he tried to push back against Roxas. The blond was bare, that much he could tell, but he really didn't give much of a fuck when Roxas was moving so exquisitely in him after believing for so long that he'd never feel him again.

It was over too fast, as Roxas gave in to every desire he'd felt since seeing Axel for the first time again, thrusting into him wildly and bringing Axel off with his hand before pulling out and spilling himself over Axel's ass. A whispered apology followed between gasps for breath as Roxas melded himself to Axel's sweat-tacky skin, his face between Axel's shoulder blades while they shuddered together in the aftermath of their orgasms.

Officially, Roxas didn't move into Axel's apartment until May; unofficially, a decent portion of his clothes and personal belongings had already migrated to Axel's place by early April.

One thing that surprised Axel was how silent Roxas was about the job Axel was in talks for; he knew Roxas was aware of it and that he was going through a series of interviews before they offered it to him officially, but the blond never once spoke of it after their first cup of espresso together. At first it worried Axel, but as the weeks passed he realized that Roxas was trying to protect himself in the event of the offer falling through – which would inevitably mean that Axel would leave once again. Finally understanding what was probably going on in that little blond head, Axel kept quiet about the very promising goings-on at the university.

When the time finally came, Axel walked back to his apartment with a spring in his step and a mad grin on his face. He didn't see Roxas at first when he walked in the door, but found him sprawled out on a couch with earbuds in blasting something with a ton of percussion while reading an English textbook. Grin widening to the point of possible creepiness, Axel bounced over to the couch and picked up Roxas' feet, moving them off the end of the couch so he could sit cross-legged and face Roxas.

Looking at him suspiciously, Roxas turned off his iPod and tugged one of the earbuds out. "What's up?" he asked in Italian.

"Remember the job I told you about at the American University?" Axel asked, waiting for the slow nod that eventually came. "Well, they offered me the job officially, and I wanted to say yes, but-"

"You bastard," Roxas muttered darkly, his expression morphing from one of hope to developing rage in two seconds flat.

"_But_ I wanted to talk to you first," Axel said loudly, talking over Roxas and ignoring his little outburst.

"Oh," Roxas blanched, his anger dulling completely as he stared at Axel with wide eyes and a slightly slack jaw.

"Yeah," Axel chuckled. "I really want to take this job, not just because it's pretty amazing but because I want to stay here in Rome. Preferably with you. And I just want to know if that is something you're interested in – being with me, you know?"

Roxas didn't answer at first; he simply stared at Axel like he was seeing him for the first time. When it seemed like ten minutes had passed without Roxas saying anything, Axel prepared himself for the final blow. Then, Roxas finally spoke.

"Is this a trick question?"

Axel started. "Uh. No, it isn't."

"Then you're even more of an idiot than I remember," Roxas retorted huffily. When Axel continued to stare at him expectantly, Roxas blurted out a resounding "YES" and tackled him to the couch.

Roxas moved in with Axel officially a few days after that, though by that point there wasn't much left to bring over – all that was really left was to end the lease and proceed in his takeover of Axel's apartment.


End file.
